Quotes

W.I.P.

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"Never leave milk out over night, lest you wake up with boils.": —

"When the sunlight breaks upon a meadow, mark the day as half and twice lived.": —

"Open the door toward you, lest you invite spirits into your home.": —

"Think twice and speak half as much, but never stop to listen lest you become idle and alone.": —

"Ghastly apparitions can be calmed with a simple chime or the drip of water on a pan.": —

"The Grey Claw Pass cannot be found without the aid of a rusted hammer and a sack of spoiled grain.": —

"The longest day of the year is reserved for study and reflection. Do not work, lest you be unable to lift your arms the next day.": —

"The longest night of the year is never a time for death. Those who pass this never, roam the afterlife forever.": —

"Seliph and Kalish were born together but died centuries apart.": —

"Join your eyes into a single pattern and the circle of Z’zatri should appear.": —

"If ever there was a reason not to camp by the water, it's those bloody blobs! A few years back, when I was just like you - young, stupid - I was travelling to Talabheim with a couple of… friends. Anyway, we found this quiet spot on the bank of the Talabec and set up camp. Fiezel took first watch as we kipped by the fire. Problem was, he never woke anyone up. Next morning there was a blob where Fiezel should have been. You could see bits of him in it. Half melted like cheese on toasted bread. It was horrible. We killed it - burned it - but that didn’t bring Fiezel back…": — Jens-Karl Kircher, Innkeeper

"I likes t’ watch the little meebers in the water while me mam rows us up t’ see Kirsta. They is de’d pretty. Come in all sorts a’ colours. I likes the red uns best. They've got big black bits in ‘erm.": — Jenna Taübl, Stablegirl

"Before I’d seen one I had absolutely no idea what to expect. But Marta knew that I’d have to deal with them, so she took me upriver. So, there I was, on the banks of the Stir, when I saw my first Amoeba. I was expecting a big ball-or, at the very least, some sort of bulbous blob - but that’s not what they’re like at all. It looked like… well… something Kastor throws up on a Festag night! It was about 8-foot wide and moving slowly. Well, creeping vomit is one of the least frightening things I’ve ever seen, so when it attacked, as Verena is my witness, I almost died of shock. It shot out a… an arm? Or something like that, hit my leg and wrapped around it. Al I could feel was the burning! Even through my clothes. Marta swatted at it with her torch. It pulled away at that, and slurped back into the river. I’m telling you, when I went looking for the Lesser-Spotted Bogtrotter, I was so damn scared of those things that I never once slept anywhere near the water.": — Daffen Maurer, Egg Collector

"Listen close, this here’s a trick I’ll bets yer muvver never tolds ya. You got a, uh, problem you needs rid uv? Nothin’ to it! You just takes it over to Goosey Pond and drops your problem on the bank. Guaranteed, in two hours those jellyfish will’ve come. They eats anything, they do. Especially problems!": — Willigis "The Wolf" Lingen, Problem Solver

"Amoebae are common in the rivers of the Empire. However, the unicellular organisms commonly referred to as Amoebae are, in truth, several different species. Although each have their unique traits, they all share a few points in common. For example, all are capable of employing temporary projections called pseudopods formed from their cell walls, and all have a highly developed ‘vacuole’ that helps maintain their osmotic pressure. Exactly how this operates is still to be ascertained, but I strongly deny claims that it must be the product of, or influenced by, this so-called aethyr. It is because they can be explained by sound scientific principle, without recourse to such intellectual sloppiness, that they are so truly fascinating.": — Professor Hans Pfaff, Altdorf University Naturalist and Sigmarite

"It was over two years ago when I developed the Amoeba House at the Imperial Zoo. It was a simple setup, really: a large, metal bowl, no cracks for the Amoebae to escape through. The top of the bowl had piping attached through which steam was passed. As Amoebae shy away from heat, it worked well. I had it created at the emperor’s order by the Imperial Engineers. It made one hell of a racket, but it kept them in… most of the time.": — Wenzel Immelman, Zoo Keeper

"Hark well, as I tell you the tale of Be’lakor First-Damned, may his forgotten true-name be forever cursed. In his arrogance, he drew the gaze of the Chaos Gods to this world, bringing damnation upon us all.": — Frederich Weirde, Chronicler of the End Times

"He is the First, the Harbinger of Doom. Where he treads, the shadows writhe, and the light flees in terror. Speak not his name.": — from the Book of Shadows, translated from Arabyan by Albrecht Anroth

"I wish I’d been born with horns and a tail, like my sister - at least I wouldn't have ended up here.": — Rudi, Great Altdorf Asylum inmate

"Pity them? Yes, gentlemen, we must pity them. For many were once Human, born to good citizens of the Empire and brought up as Human until their mutations became apparent. Many, indeed, are tragic in both their origins and their eventual fate. Yet they represent one of the most dangerous and insidious threats to the Empire that we will ever face. It is common practice among the rural areas for peasants who give birth to mutated children to abandon them in the forests, leaving them to be found by their own kind in the hope that this way they will at least have some kind of existence. This attitude is weakness, a pervasive, perfidious weakness that could be the downfall of our great land; we must deal with any who practice it just as we would deal with a gang of Chaos Marauders come down from the north or a nest of Beastmen themselves, for thus and so are the numbers of the Beastmen replenished. According to my own researches, most adult Beastmen are sterile; thus many of the outlying Imperial villages must be heavily tainted Chaos, acting as breeding grounds for these abominations. Our pity must not stay our hands as we strike to destroy all Beastmen - indeed, our pity must give us strength in battle against these foul minions of Chaos, for by slaying the swiftly and mercilessly we both protect the Empire and bring an end to their miserable, tormented existence. Likewise, we may pity their Human parents even less; the parents were knowingly complticit in evil, while Beastmen themselves cannot help their innately Chaotic natune. I hereby call upon all right-thinking witch-finders and knights of the Empire to be extra-vigilant in seeking out and destroying both Beastmen and those who give birth to and shelter them, for without these Chaos-touched Human parents the threat of Beastmen would be very much reduced.": — Albrecht Kinear, Professor Emeritus at the University of Nuln

"They’re in the woods, you know. Always there. Any time you go in the woods,chances are you’re no more than a few leagues from a Beastman camp. Mostly ’ey just takes foresters and charcoal burners, but every so often a band of ’em will come out of the trees and take a village or a town, burning and killing and looting. They’s not so thorough as t’ Ratmen, you’ll usually find one or two folk o' the village - either hid, or ﬂed an’ come back, or sometimes left by t’ Beastmen to tell t’ tale to t’ other villages.": — Old Hob, Peasant Farmer

"Baletoad dorsal secretion.": — Rikkit'tik, Clan Eshin "Scholar"

"In many respects, the society and hierarchy of Beastmen are almost as sophisticated as those of Humans. Its structure is rigid, so that every member of a tribe knows his or her place, is completely aware of which other Beastfolk are higher and which are lorwer in the hierarchy; very un-Chaotic, you might think! Yet movement within that hierarchy is always possible. Any member can challenge the leader or any other member at almost any time, whether formally or informally. The only exception is the Ungors and Brays, those Beastmen or other mutants who are not graced with the horns that are the most distinctive feature of this race. No Gor, or horned Beastman, would consent to being ruled by an Ungor or Bray, however skilled or powerful that lesser Beastman might be. In any case, such a situation never occurs in practice; Ungors and Brays are simply weaker and less physically imposing than Gors. The occasional spirited Ungor who might step out of line is quickly torn to shreds by the Gors of the tribe. Mutants who do not have at least one animalistic feature, even if it is so minor as enlarged, fang - like teeth, are rarely accepted into Beastmen bands even as Ungors, but sometimes form their own tribes, sometimes led by outcast Gors or other powerful Chaos creatures. Above the ordinary Gors of a beast tribe are the Bestigors, who tend to be larger, stronger, better-equipped, and better-disciplined than most Beastmen. When a group of Beastmen carries out an ambush or other attack, the Bestigors are typically the front-line troops, closely supported by the Gors, with the Ungors harassing the enemy's flanks. Some powerful Gors have too much ambition to be willing to serue as a Bestigor, and force their way up the hierarchy still further. At this point my knowledge of the hierarchy falls down somewhat,but these Gor leaders are known variously as Beastlords, Foe-Renders, Gouge-Horns, Wargors, Banebeasts, and Banegors. Even here the hierarchy seems complex; these different names are not merely local affectations, but precise statements of rank. These various Gor leaders will work together, each with their own smaller warband, banding together under one supreme leader of each horde. Fortunately, such co-operation is relatively rare, and the typical traveller would be most unlucky to be attacked by a Beastman herd that included more than one powerful leader.": — Heinrich Malz, High Priest of Verena, Nuln.

"Kaptain Agog were a mad zogger. 'E got us a hulk-ship we called 'Da Peeker' and put togevver a crew jus' by promisin' gold and bustin' heads. We fought we was gonner get ter be pirates, wiv da peg-legs and eye-patches and all da parrots we could eat. But we wuz wrong. Agog had bigger fish ter fry, da biggest fish of 'em all: Behemuff, da great white whale. 'E dragged us 'halfway 'cross da world lookin' fear dat whale. We wuz sick and 'ungry and we'd et almost all of da gobbos when we finally saw it off da starberr… starbo… over der. Had a ginormous, dirty horn stickin' out of its forred and teef like nuffin' you ever done saw. I nearly squit meself jus' ter look at it. But Agog jus' had dis mad grin on his mug. 'Get me a whale-stikka, a rope, and me best swimmin' pants', he said. We never done saw 'im again after dat. Mad zogger.": — Pusfudgit, Orc Mate

"We have sailed these seas since before Man looked upon the waves, but before even we took to the waters, there was the Behemoth and its kin. The sea monsters were the lords of all the world in those days, when land was but a dream of Asuryan's. They fought titanic battles on a scale we never see again, churning entire oceans to foam as they tussled. Now, short-lived fools take pot shots at the Behemoth with harpoons for sport. Once, he was lord of all, and now he is your target practice? What will you do should you ever succeed in hunting this great beast? Eat him? There is a legend that if the flesh of the Behemoth is ever tasted by mortals, the world will end. I pray it does not come to pass.": — Nenyll, Sea Elf Captain

"Explosives. Lots.": — Rikkit'tik, Clan Eshin "Scholar"

"The Border Princes are a flat and rugged land. Our wagons had been riding for days without hint of a suitable place to settle when the wolf riders appeared. I knew there was no way we could outrun them. It seemed our only hope was a copse of trees and shrubs ahead, in the middle of the plain… but not to use as cover. I recognised them from my time in the Laurelorn, and directed the train to steer around them. Them Goblins, seeing there chance, spread out and came straight through the copse of Bloodsedges at us. Only a single, riderless wolf made it out the other side alive.": — Ottaline, Outrider

"After the Bauer brothers did what they did to Berthilda Reitz, they were wanted men in these parts. They took to hiding in the forest, living like outlaws. One by one, the militiamen dragged them out of the forest and ended their lives on the Hanging Tree of Braundorf. They say that after tasting all that blood, the Hanging Tree developed a liking for it. When Frau Reitz went to gloat over the bodies of the Bauer brothers, that tree snatched her up off the ground with its branches and ate her. Had to burn it down, we did. Shame, too, it was an awful good tree for hangings.": — Adred Ostenwald, Burgher

"Athel Loren is not the only forest protected by spirits. In other, less ancient woods, that protection manifest as Bloodsedges. They are proof of the holiness of the wilds.": — Irmine Pahlke, Priestess of Rhya

"It were a Bog Octopus, I tell you! There ain’t no bogs anywhere near our village, but the bloody thing, moved in anyway! Manaan knows where it came from! But when Gereon didn't come back from his fishing, we knew something was up. Lissa spotted it three days later. "Giant squirmy fingers in the water!" she shouted. Old Sem figured it out. He told us about the thing his grandfather had seen near Kalkaat more'n a hundred years ago, and what it could do to a man. That's when we stopped fishing. There was nowt we could do, so we sent Tobias to the Baron: he’d surely sort it. He didn't. After a few rewards were posted with no reply,things were getting desperate. Anyone that tried to fish got eaten, we were running low on supplies, and the Baron wasn’t getting his taxes. So, the Baron eventually forced us into a solution: we all moved downstream some eight miles. Never troubled by it again. But if you’re going upriver, friend, I tell you this: stay away from the water.": — Jochen Sigmarsson, Fisherman

"It must o' been a witch that did put it there! I was checking the Ludenhof Tunnel ‘cause I'd caught wind o’ thieves creepin’ about in it. It were obvious the tunnel were bein’ used, on account of its sides were all clean, an’ the Ludenhof ain't never clean. Anyways, I heard splashin’ down one o’ the pipes - nummer 8 it were - so I pulls up me crossbow and sticks me ‘ead in wiv me lantern. As Sigmar is me witness, it were the darndest thing! Big wobbly monster it were, all wriggly bits and mud. And it were huge! The chamber it were sittin’ in could only be got ta by pipe nummer 8, and it were only two-foot wide. There ain’t no way it coulda got in there! It must o’ been witches I tells yer! They wanted one o’ those tentacles up the Lord’s privvie, if you catch me meaning. Witches ‘re sick like that.": — Wilmut Eckhardt, Sewerjack

"Chewy.": — Grumbarth, Ogre Bouncer and Food Expert

"The Bog Octopus has fascinated scholars for many centuries. Grimblinnder believed it was created by a now lost civilisation. In The First Great War, he claimed to have found the following quotation carved into a fallen menhir in the Wasteland: "And the mighty eight-armed one was raised from the sea and made to guard our waste." This origin for the Bog Octopus is contradicted, though, by Liathalissen’s epic treatise Aethyric Dominion, Falling Stars, Geomantic Construction and other Remnants of the Old Ones. Here, Liathalissen suggests that the Old Ones themselves were responsible, claiming that "Tepok waved his ∫ handƈt and ∫ the Bog Octopusƈt was made. It was charged with patrolling the ∫ under passages/tunnelsƈt, as it had been ∫ gifted/designed withƈt a ∫ body/shapeƈt for the purpose." Whatever the truth of the matter, the Bog Octopus is an anomaly sure to confound scholars for many centuries to come.": — Sigo Bentele, Magister of the Light Order

"You'll not hear me say these words often, but I'm glad they don't make them like they used to!": — Brakki Dourbeard, Veteran Dwarf Ranger

"Don't run my friends, don't run. The Carnosaur is a simple beast. His vision is poor and, like most predators, attuned to the detection of swiftly moving prey. It's all in my book, you know.": — Reputed last words of Bonnaudo famed Bretonnian explorer

"I've seens the cameeleeches, or at least I thinks I ‘ave. It were abouts a year ago, just after I’d ‘ad me keel refitted. It were a pack o’ wolves on the bank, rolling arounds like cats in catnip. ‘Ad those leeches hanging off their fur, they dids, an’ seemed ‘appy abouts it too.": — Ludger Schams, Boatman

"Well, since yer bought me another pint, I suppose I can trust ya. Y’see, there's somethin’ wrong goin’ on at the castle, and they wanted me to be part o’ it. When they find me, they’ll get fer me, so there’s little point in me not spillin’ my guts - I’m just glad Theda ain’t around to see this. Anyway, I've been working for ‘is nibs for about three years. He's good that way, looks after the bereaved. Been like that ever since he lost his mother. I was preparing a new batch o’ shoes when that toad Gullie comes over. Tells me that ‘is nibs wants a talk. So, I finish up and get moving. But when I get to his room, there’s no one there. Suddenly, thud, the door slams behind me, and I hear the click o’ the lock. Well, I'm not best pleased, and just a little confused, so I starts bangin’ on the door, shoutin’ at Gullie. But it’s no good. I was worried what ‘is nibs would say if he caught me in ‘is room. So, I decide to look around for another way out. But when I turn about I get the surprise o’ me life. Across the room there’s this… slug, but wiv teeth. It ain't too big, so I ain’t worried, just a little shocked. It’s movin' slowly towards me, so I pick up a chair to squash it if it gets too close. Then I hear the door click behind me. I almost died when I saw who was there. Theda, my dead wife… I just shook my head. I was stunned. She came forward and stroked my head like she used to when I got sad… I was so confused, but… so happy. Well, I’m not going into details, friend, but when I woke up I felt weak and drained. ‘Is nibs is there, and so is Gullie. They asked me if I'd liked it. Liked it? I wanted to know where Theda was. All they could do was grin like loons. Told me that everything would be alright. That they ‘ad figured a way to bring them all back": — Reimer Schmidt, Ostler

"again. Then... Oh, Sigmar’s beard, they're here, I've not said nuffin’, right? If they think I've blabbed, it’s curtains for yer. They’re willin’ to do anyfin’ for their stupid dreams.": — Dodgy Dierich, Street Peddler

"Stick t’ the roof o’ yer mouf.": — Grumbarth, Ogre Bouncer and Food Expert

"Esmer says that turning in Mutants is our civic duty. Are you one? Have you checked?": — Gossip overheard in pubs and taverns across the Old World

"All life consists of highly organised matter, governed by the laws of nature. Thus all life is a struggle against Chaos, a struggle that is ultimately destined to be lost.": — Albrecht of Nuln

"Despair! The age of mortals is ending. Time drains away and the stars fade from the skies one by one. The bitter spawn of night crawls from the darkness to possess the world for eternity to come. Fools! Take refuge in faith or flee into the depths of madness, for no other hiding place remains. The Realm of Chaos is begun.": — Egrimm Van Horstmann

"It has never been proven that Chaos cultists are anything more than the product of the fevered imaginings of certain of the more zealous Witch Hunters. Why they have to go on and on about ‘corruption from within’ and ‘debased orgiastic sects of the Lord of Pleasure’ when the real danger is the Marauders of the north, I’ll never know. I ask you, what motivation could these successful merchants, nobles, and scholars have for allying with Chaos, when they already hold positions of such eminence within the Empire? It would be like a queen bee poisoning her own hive. ": — Albrecht Kinear, Professor Emeritus at the University of Nuln, speaking at a commission to advise the Elector of Nuln on the threat of Chaos.

"They are worse by far than the Marauders or even the Daemons. At least the Chaos armies that come out of the North give you a straight fight, or something close to it. Chaos cultists undermine everything we fight for, make a mockery of our brave lads dying for the Empire. Those Witch Hunters often overreact when they deal with some of the ignorant peasants in the villages, most of whom wouldn’t know a Daemon if it bit them, but they’re absolutely right to come down hard on the decadent scum who claim to be our betters then sell us down the river to Chaos. Burning’s too good for that carrion.": — Captain Schultz, Mercenary Commander

"It bain’t be natural.": — Old Hob, Peasant Farmer

"Give me an enemy I may meet with strong steel and stout oak in my hands, not a dagger in the night and an accounting-book.": — Count Boris Todbringer, Elector of Middenheim.

"Albrecht Kinear, former Professir if the University of Nuln, this court finds you guilty of trafficking with Daemons and selling your soul to Chaos. You profaned the high office and renown with which you were entrusted when you joined the Silver Wheel Society here in Nuln, and you compounded your damnation when you steeped yourself so thoroughly in its dark and sorcerous teachings as to be made its leader. Your already unforgivable crimes are made still worse by your continual deliberate misdirection of legitimate authority with your false pronouncements on Chaos and many another matter, Gunther, Hans - take him outside and burn him. Now.": — Vorster Pike, Witch Hunter, speaking at a commission to advise the Elector of Nuln on the threat of Chaos

"They are weak and foolish, but they will help us achieve the victory we crave. With us attacking the Empire’s borders, the Beastmen and Mutants sweeping out from the forests, and the cultists undermining and corrupting from within, we will soon have dominion over this once-great Empire, finally banishing the name of Sigmar from the annals of history forever.": — Drakar Neth Shyish, the Fist of Chen, also known as Drakar the Questioner

"Hemlock.": — Rikkit'tik, Clan Eshin "Scholar"

"Is it so wrong to want to be on the winning side? Year by year the Beastmen grow bolder and the Marauders stronger. Year by year there are more Mutants, and worse, within the borders of the Empire. The Emperor is fighting a losing battle. I am a pragmatist first and foremost: the Empire ha made me rich, but Chaos will help me survive when Middenheim is in flames and its people are food for Beastmen or sacrifices to the Blood God. Survive and even prosper. The Master of Fortune is good to those who revere him.": — Klaus Goethe of the Merchant’s Guild High Council, Middenheim; Tzeentch Cultist

"Truly I thought I had experienced every pleasure known from the flesh pits of Araby to the boudoirs of Marienburg. Yet they never quite satiated me. Always I sought for more; more intensity, more divine madness, more ecstasy. As I lolled in bawdy-house after bawdy-house, gambling den after gambling den, so I heard more and more whispers of vices so salacious even the most decadent of libertines became hushed and withdrawn when I tried to press for further information. This of course only roused in me a greater thrill of anticipation, a greater determination to uncover such utter depravity as might be offered me could I but track down the Disciples of Lanshor. Yes, I knew that if I were to find them, I may be putting soul and body alike to the greatest of risks, but it seemed like it would be worth those risks. Indeed, the thought that at last I might have found a pleasure regarded as truly abhorrent by the fools who make our laws only enhanced my fervour. That was twenty years ago, and my only regret is that I did not give myself up to the Aesthete a decade before instead of wasting my time with mere earthly desire.": — Rupert von Epstein, heir to the von Epstein dynasty; Pruest if Slaanesh

"The village boys never liked me, said I was plain as a pikestaff. They all fancied that Elena as their sweetheart, her with her blond ringlets and - how was it they put it - her mischievous eyes. I showed that bitch, and her little bunch of drooling admirers. The followers of the Lord of Corruption didn’t care how I looked, they were all covered with sores and boils and buboes anyway. All I had to do to get the plague-maggots was devote myself to the Great Decay. It’s not like I was giving up anything, other than the chance to grow older and uglier alone in the village till one day some zealous Witch Hunter would like as not have burned me anyway, Chaos or no Chaos. It was worth it, knowing what would happen when I shoved the maggots under her door. Took about a week for the fleshh to start rotting off her pretty face, and all of the handsome boys of the village had the same thing happen to them a day of so after her. Hardest part was keeping the smile off my own face as I walked about my business through all that suffering, seeing the mute expression of horror on them all as they became so much less beautiful than I.": — Olga Langenspiesse, miller’s daughter in the village of Frundsberg; Nurgle Cultist

"They are a blight upon a proud lineage, a foul insult to which extermination is the only just reply.": — Prince Imrik of Caledor

"At the pinnacle of their city is the Temple of Hashut the Father of Darknes. Within the temple its guardians perform bloodthirsty rites, throwing captives into cauldrons of boiling lead to the echoing laughter of the Chaos Dwarf Sorcerers. On top of the temple stands the hollow iron statue of Hashut, whose belly contains a blazing furnace so that the god glows bright red with fiery heat.": — from the Journal of Marcus Trebor.

"Is there one single greater threat to civilization than these savages? Physically powerful, armed and armoured with both steel and sorcery, filled with evil intent. Are they even Human? All the evidence is that they are not;rather, these creatures are spontaneously generated deep within the Pits of Chaos in the Icy Wastes north of Norsca, born from the cosmic flux of creation that is primal Chaos...": — Albrecht Kinear, Professor Emeritus at the University of Nuln

"They know how to fight. That's what you have to remember about them. People talk about the strength of their armour, or the ferocity of the Blood God's worshippers, or the intimidating look of the horns and the spikes. It’s their sheer skill at war that wins them their battles though. They've been fighting since they were born-fighting, mind you, not just practicing, and often to the death. Oh, the Bretonnian knights have been trained since they were children, but they don't have the sheer depth of experience that even the younger Chaos Warriors do. As for the older ones... some of them have pacts or gifts from the Ruinous Powers that mean they live for hundreds of years, if they remain undefeated on the field of battle. So, yes, they're good. Very good. If you come up against them, defend yourself as a first priority, and hope one of your mates can get behind him with a mace or a warhammer or something - because it’s true, that armour is damnably strong too.": — Captain Schultz, Mercenary Commander

"I saw a northern village they'd passed through, and oh, it was a charred ruin just as you’d expect - but no worse than after an Orc attack or something. Far as I could see, they're no different from any other marauders. Bad for you if you get caught by them, bad for business if you wanted to trade with someone they've marauded, but otherwise no different to Orcs, or even foreigners like those Tileans and Bretonnians. A nasty lot, those Titleans. One of them married my sister, and a right tricksy charmer he was.": — Kastar Handlin, Traveling Merchant

"Am glad we've got t’ Emperor and t’ armies, that’s all am sayin’.": — Young Hob, Peasant Farmer

"Three parts warpbane root, one deathvine. Armpit, back of knee or through eyeslits.": — Rikkit'tik, Clan Eshin "Scholar"

"The Blood God is often seen as the most terrifying threat by those who have faced Chaos in Norsca or in the Wastes beyond. The Drinker of Souls, after all, makes his worshippers powerful and fearless in battle. Yet those favoured by the Great Decay are perhaps more dangerous still to the common folk of the Empire, for the diseases of Chaos cannot be fought by strength of arms alone. The Despoiler, also, is often gravely underestimated; those in power who dismiss its seductive cults are but one step away from being absorbed within them, and giving over much of the strength of the Empire to the Dark Powers. None of these three is truly the most deadly threat to us, though. That is Changer of the Ways. He has not the sheer destructive power of the gore drenched dog, nor the devastating plagues of the rotting one, nor the insidious temptations of the harlot’s lord, but he has a willingness to wait that belies his Chaotic nature. Fight the machinations of the others howsoever you can, but watch always for the hand of Tzeentch, f or he has been waiting since time immemorial for us to make one mistake, and the moment we do, we are lost forever.": — Vorster Pike, Witch Hunter

"What is death, but the ultimate change, the ultimate expression of Chaos? When I bring you death, I sanctify your meagre existence, change your formerly worthless life into something far more grand and magical...": — Drakar Neth Shyish, the Fist of Chen, also known as Drakar the Questioner

"War. There is only war.": — Kardos Aqshyash Phaos’y, Slave of Kharnath, also known as Kardos Bloodhelm

"Step closer, and taste my blade… just a little touch, not enough to slay you outright, just sufficient that you carry my plagues back to your homes, your families, your tribes…": — Belmoth Dha Ulgu’y, Knight of Neiglen, also known as Belmoth Blacksword

"I have fought in countless battles. At first, it is the din of war that unsettles you - the hiss of arrows, the clash of steel on steel. Yet the on noise I can never grow inured to is the sound of those loathsome Spawn. Even I still shudder at their roar.": — Valmir von Raukov, Elector Count of Ostland

"Though the gates that stand between the mortal world and the immortal Realm of Chaos are now closed to me, still I would rather die having glimpsed eternity than ever to have stirred from the cold furrow of mortal life. I embrace death without regret as I embraced life without fear.": — Unknown Chaos Spawn

"When the hounds of the wastes bay at Morrslieb, the foul moon bays back.": — Kislev Proverb

"Most bizarre of monsters is the dreaded Chimera: it’s body is a size of a house, and has wicked claws longer than daggers. It’s tail lashes like an iron whip, and it’s huge leathery wings carry it through the skies. This loathsome creature has three heads. One of them is horned, like a head of a ram: other is like that of a vast lion: the third head is the most frightening of all: it that of a scaled dragon, and it belches forth noxious smoke and scorching fire. Chimera hunts in the northern wastes, and meat of men is it’s delicacy: it will hunt relentlessly through day and night to capture it’s prey.": — From Grimoire Beterricus

"Even the mightiest of creatures must fear the Cockatrice, for its gaze means certain death.": — Bonnaudo, famed Bretonnian explorer

"That were the only thing that I've eaten in me life that I don't ever want to eat again": — Greasus Goldtooth

"It is a common mistake to believe death marks an end, for it is merely another journey. The steps of those who walk this path can easily be retraced, but such adventurers may see many disturbing sights on the way, and will not be the same upon their return.": — The Book of Graves

"You needn’t worry about me killing you, soldier, for I’ll soon bring you back in one piece. I cannot, however, vouch for the quality of my associates’ handiwork.": — Hessel the Vanquisher

"Kill them with swords, kill them with lances and spears, kill them with the bolts of your crossbows. Kill their warriors, kill their women and their children, their elderly and their sick. Kill their hoods battle and their livestock. But above all, kill with pleasure.": — Captain Daerkhil of the Black Ark Bringer of Joyous Oblivion prior to the punitive Dark Elf raid on the coastal town of Bergsburg. There were no survivors.

"We shall strike down our foes with sharp steel and cold hearts. The weak die so that the strong prevail and none shall be spared. Then and only then will our enemies know the true meaning of fear.": — Malekith, The Witch King of Naggaroth

"And lo, he shall rule with a dark hand and his shadow shall touch upon every land. Steel will be his skin and fire will be his blood, in hatred will be conquer all before him. No blade forged of Man. Dwarf or Elf shall endure him fear. Though will it come to pass that the firstborn son of noble blood shall rise to power. The child will be learned in the darkest arts and he will raise an army of terrible beasts. Thus will the Dark King fall, slain by enther blade nor arrow but by a sorcerous power of darkert magic and so shall his body be consumed in the flames and for all eternity burn.": — The Prophecy of Demise

"Never had I before encountered a being so steeped in evil as to be my equal. It quickly became apparent that, despite my initial plans, I would have to dispose of the Dark Emissary before marching on Nagarythe, lest he dispose of me first.": — From the recollections of Malek the Depraved

"How much flesh can a Ghorgon gorge on? A Ghorgon gorges on flesh 'til it's gone. He'd gorge on more, of that you can be sure, if only he could find more to gorge on.": — Tongue-twister popular amongst woodcutters' children in the Darkwald Forest

"I leave you this gift. In my final days, I found cause to use it twice and I know you will guard this secret well. It is well known that a stake through the heart of a Vampire shall sunder it. A Werewolf fears silver. A Liche abhors fire. Spirits recoil from the memories of their fragmented past. But one truth binds all the beasts that live on both sides of the world. One thing they all fear. And this truth, I gift toyou. Hold it close and do not squander it; for there is nothing more terrifying to the Undead than a single utterance of the word — Kriesten. Do not say again. You will not need to. Hearing the word will cause the creatures of the night to stop in their tracks for a few moments, giving you a birth to escape. Run then, as fast as you can. And never look back, for the creatures of the night are not fond of tricks. Remember. Do not abuse this gift. And do not say it more than once. Or they will come to find you. Go in peace, my brother.": — Verimakk

"A Dragon is an army unto itself.": — Caledonian Proverb

"Dwarfs are so superstitious that drown black cats on sight so that one never crosses their path.": — Gossip overheard in pubs and taverns across the Old World

"Be it known unto the uttermost ends of dwarfdom, that The King of Karaz-A-Karak long of beard requires all dwarfs to untiringly and unceasingly seek vengeance against Tol Eldroth in Retribution for the slaying of Drong The Thrundling.": — Entry from The Great Book of Grudges

"You never seen Elf children, do you? That’s because they don’t have babies like normal folk. They lay eggs instead. And they lay them in people.": — Gossip overheard in pubs and taverns across the Old World

"Help a blind old baba, dearie, there's a good lad. Here, let me take your hand…": — Typical Whisper of an Eyeless One

"From the black quagmire I summon thee. From the living marsh I bind thee. Rise now. I command thee.": — Part of the Spell of Summoning

"A Finger of Doom is just enough To lay a Minotaur, A Finger of Doom is just enough To push him through Death’s Door, It’s full of magical power, The energy of the warp, A Finger of Doom is just enough To slay a Minotaur.": — Comment on the Finger of Doom spell attributed to Alaric Greymane famous adventurer Wizard of Altdorf

"I don't care who it's sacred to! The damn tents on fire!": — Kassel, Empire Mercenary

"Something like a pheasant, only prettier. A lovely bird. Beautiful plumage.": — Friar Begel, 'My Travels in Kislev'

"Yes my son, Tilea is where you must go!' my father said, 'For from the city of Miragliano, the famous freebooter El Cadavo sets sail this very week upon a voyage to the west, to win new kingdoms and explore lands no man visited before. Flee Fleugweiner, my boy, before the Knights of the White Wolf discover what you have done this day and bring shame upon us all!": — Fleugweiner Sonderblitz, Lustrian Adventurer.

"When the frost spirit saw he had lost the love of the princess, he rose up in great fury to destroy her. But Dazh was swifter and cut the spirit down with his blade and threw his body onto the earth. But the frost spirit was not dead. Lost in a terrible rage, he sought to destroy all the children of Dazh. We have lost many sons to his claws, and we will lose more.": — Baba Olna

"How much flesh can a Ghorgon gorge on? A Ghorgon gorges on flesh 'til it's gone. He'd gorge on more, of that you can be sure, if only he could find more to gorge on.": — Tongue-twister popular amongst woodcutters' children in the Drakwald Forest

"Aye, they wuz made by those vampires back inner wars, weren’t they? That’s what me da used to say when we was havin’ blood puddin’. They used ‘em as starters before they gots to the mains. Aye, that’d be us: the mains. He reckoned, me da, that they jus’ used to be big slugs or summat, before ‘em bastard vampires got to ‘em!": — Galthek Rogarsson, Blacksmith

"We can't stand before that abomination! In the name of Sigmar, where are my cannons!": — Last words of Count Erich von Wittengast

"There’s the right sort of wolves, and then there’s the wrong sort of wolves. You never can tell with wolves.": — Rudi, Great Altdorf Asylum inmate

"Ooh, we had trouble a few years back with a pack of Giant Wolves. They would come and try and take cattle, so we had to keep them penned in, which isn’t good for the milk, you know. Them pesky Greenskins then tried to herd this pack. I seen some of them trying to ride these wolves like you might ride a bloomin’ horse. Well, I wasn’t going to stand for that, so I rounded up the village and we cut ‘em all down like wheat. I got the skin of one of them wolves on the floor of my hut. Blunted one of my best knives trying to get it off ’s back, mind. D’you want to come in and see it, dearie?": — Petra Langenmesser, Village Fishwife

"A Goblin mounted on a Giant Wolf is fast, believe me. We faced what must have been over a hundred of them. They came straight at us downhill, all teeth and fangs and foul breath, and the wolves were pretty horrible too, I can tell you! Well, it was a tough fight. The mounted knights were almost useless. Those wolves terrified the horses, and those that didn’t turn and stampede got bit in the legs and went down. It was the foot soldiers who held the day that time. Even wolf hide isn’t so thick you can’t stick it with a good sharp halberd. Suren, you can kill ‘em all right. Just have to hit them hard enough!": — Alphonse, Bretonnian Man-at-Arms

"For every bard that writes a sad song about the plight of a Giant, there're a 'undred soldiers that get reduced to a fine red mist by a swipe of one of their clubs. You'll forgive me if I'm not overly sympathetic to the plight of a massive brute with breath like a privy and a tendency to shove opponents down 'is breeches so's 'e can 'ave a snack for later. Bards ought to stick to wooing farmers' daughters and leave the tellin' of tales about war to us soldierin' lads.": — Captain Krueger, Mercenary

"The beast was even filthier than a normal Giant and he reeked of death and rot. Distended organs glistened as they peeked through ragged rents in his flesh like ghastly marionettes behind a pale curtain. 'Undreds of corpse-white maggots swarmed from these gashes as a death shroud of flies surrounded his head. 'E swung 'is great club and sent bodies flyin' high into the air. Where a normal Giant would have bellowed, this one spewed a stream of caustic vomit that caused boils to form on the skin of anyone it touched. Within seconds, the boils would burst, spewing virulent streams of blood and pus as the unfortunate man died screaming.": — Helmut Hinkel, Knight of the Blazing Sun

"I dunno boss, I tried to give da Shaman yer orders, but da bug-eyed loon is just talkin' to that skull wand of his. Da funny thing is, boss... I fink I 'eard it talkin' back.": — Greebitz, Goblin lackey of Warboss Ugg

"Da humies look at yer, an see a big joke. Orcs, too. Let ‘im laugh while yer tucj’lin deer guts wit yer sticker. ‘member always dat yer smaller, so’s ya got’s to be smarter, eh?": — Gitsniker, Goblin Boss

"Yerz got to make yer mark somehow. See as a Goblin, yer’ll get killed an’ et by Orcs or even other Goblinz if they’s not scared of yer or if yer not useful to ‘em. I won’t all dat big but when an Orc tried to pull me arm off I made ‘is ‘ead explode. Then they woz a bit scared of me, an’ they knew I’d be useful too.": — Bozfag, Goblin Shaman

"Thier character is universally reprehensible. There is no depth of casual cruelty or random violence to which a Goblin will not sink, if it senses that it has the power to do so. Yet in the presence of an Orc or even just a larger Goblin, it will become suddenly servile and fawning, a slinking cur in fear of its master’s stick.": — Heinrich Malz, High Priest of Verena, Nuln.

"They trampled my herb garden, just for sheer devilment. I think they’re even worse than Orcs - getting bullied all the time by bigger Greenskins gives them a rea vindictive streak. I wanted to run out and show them the error of their ways with my staff, but there were a dozen of them and only one of me so I stayed hid in my cave": — Karl Glogauer, Holy Hermit

"You’ve never seen anything crueler than three Goblins torturing a wounded deer that had caught its foot in their crude trap. I’ve nothing against trappers, I’ve set snares myself you understand, but the thing to do is check the traps often, then put critter out of its misery soon as you can. Easiest way for me to do that in this case was to stick three arrows in the Goblins then one in the deer. I’d have done the deer first but I wanted to finish the Goblins while they still didn’t know I was there. Ah, but the venison tasted good that night, and I got a bounty on the Goblin heads too.": — Fritz Bodger, Forester

"Night Goblins are the worst. They’re so unpredictable. You get used to uncertainty in war - you know that as soon as a fight starts, plans and orders are going to fail and disintegrate anyway. You never quite get used to Night Goblin Fanatics or Squigs hurling themselves around the battlefield though. What we do is talk to them Dwarfs about maybe clearing them out from all the caves they’re in;if we could kill all the Night Goblins this world would be much improved.": — Stemahr Holst, Empire Soldier

"Little pests. Our armies should be able to clean them up with ease, then get on with the real business of fighting Chaos.": — Albrecht Kinear, Professor Emeritus at the University of Nuln

"Sticks 'n' stones'll break my bones, but Gork and Mork'll smash yer 'ead to bits if'n you don't sod off you big bugger!": — Gahzbag, Goblin Shaman telling off a Giant

"Yes, they outnumber us somethin’ fierce, but trust me, those goblins is more scared of you than you is of them. Once we bloody up a few of them greenies, the rest’ll turn coward so quick we’ll have to start callin’ ‘em yellerskins.": — Final words of Sergeant Freidrich Danzig

"Nay, then, we'll keep diggin' until we've found the Gromril. Night Goblins be damned. Watch behind ya. They get a Fanatic o' theirs in here, that bloody flail o' theirs will dice us up for sure. They get fantastic strength while they're swillin' that fungus-beer o' theirs. If the blasted greenskins were all known for lunatic behavior, they'd be called Night Goblins. 'Ere we go, lads pull that last chunk of rock down, and we'll soon see a Night Goblin lair! Damn my rotten luck!": — Last words of Zamgrim Crackhammer, Mining Guild

"We Gobs may be smaller than da , but we's more clever by 'alf. We can make fings, and figure out how fings work. Da Orcs, dey just bash everyfing dey see. Sometimes dey bash us Gobs, too. Other times, dey eat us. It takes a clever git to live wit da Orcs and not get et, and dat's why us Gobs is so smart. Now, da smartest Gobs is da ones wot can make an Orc do what dey wants, an den make da Orc fink dat 'e's da one wot 'ad the idea in da first place. Now,dat's a clever Gob!": — Bronak, Goblin Shaman

"I once 'ad to lissen to one of dem Shaman Gobbos ramblin' on and on about da Great Green and wotnot for so long dat 'e was givin' me an 'eadache. Den a bunch of dem red-'aired stunties charged me boyz and da Shaman started dancin' around an' chantin'. Before you knew it, dem stunties got 'it wif a big green fist dat came out of da sky. Really tuned 'em up good. Den, all of a sudden-like, I 'eard a loud 'Pop' an' then somefink wet 'it me in da back of me 'ead. I looked behind me and saw dat da gobbo's 'ead 'ad exploded. I laughed so 'ard, I almost put me eye out on me own toof.": — Otha Pignose, Orc

"Dere's three fings wot I love to bash. Da first is stunties, and dere's lots of dem around here. Da second is gits who want to join up wiv da Bloody Sun Boyz, but ain't got wot it takes. Dat's why Grumlok put me in charge of dis camp. Ya see, I'm da Goblin you have to prove yerself to, or you don't get in wiv da Bloody Sun Boys! Now where was I? Oh, dat's right! Da third fing I love to bash is er did I already say stunties?": — Maggut, a Goblin in the Bloody Sun Boyz tribe

"Dat Nogaz says he hears da voice of Mork, and it's tellin' him to forget da big Waaagh! at Eight Peaks and attack dis stunty port instead. I fink he just got tired of walkin' and wanted to fight sumfink instead. I's all for fightin', but when Warlord Grumlok hears about dis, he's gonna bash Nogaz and all his One Tusk Orcs ta bits! Dat's why I's stayin' on da side of da Bloody Sun Boyz.": — Jugag, a Goblin sentry in Barak Varr

"It's true dat us Goblins is smarter than da Orcs, but you don't got to be too smart to see where all da fightin' is out here. Just look for dem big gates wot's got all dat smoke comin' up from 'em. Even a Squig could find his way to dat fight!": — Screeb, a Goblin with the Bloody Sun Boyz

"It's like shooting goblins in a gorge": — Saying among imperial Sharpshooters

"Dem 'umies, stunties, and skinnies jes cawn't rilly kill us all, can dey?": — Anxious Goblin

"Orcs and their Goblin kin are our enemies, for they are the defilers of glades and murderers of our folk.": — Wood Elf mother to her son.

"What motivates me? What motivates any man? No, no, not greed. Love. For some, it is love of money. For others, love for themselves. For me, it is the love I bear for my family. They are the reason I do what I do. Risk what I risk. It is that love that keeps me focused. Makes sure I train hard. Keeps my blade clean and sharp. Even when those greenskins attacked the village while I was off to war, and took my family, they did not take the love I bear them. Nae, in fact, they made it stronger. Does vengeance drive me? No, only love. I love my family. Almost as much as I love to kill greenskins.": — Stephan Krause, Soldier

"So I got tired of killing mountain goblins. Too easy. Wandered north to seek doom in the Reikwald. Now there’s a challenge. Plenty of monsters in them woods, big ones too. And ones that’ve never met a dwarf, so they don’t run away when they see me.": — Gurni Thorgrimson, Dwarf Troll Slayer

"Don't tell anyone this, but they aren't so bad as is made out sometimes. Goods that come out of Araby are pricey because the merchants who run the caravans have to pay tolls and bribes to the Greenskin leaders, not because they have to fight every step of the way through Orc country.": — Kastar Handlin, Travelling Merchant

"We iz strong an' tough. Da strong onez win, an' then eat the weak. Some of dem Gobboes is awright to keep for slaves or ter catch Humie cannonballs in the heads, but most is best fer the pot. One day we eats all of youse. One day soon.": — Galnast, Orc Boss

"Gork and Mork made da Goblinz for us to kick, kill, and eat. Dey iz nothing. Dey iz less than nothing. Even dere magic iz weak an' pointless. Only use Dey got in a fight iz catchin' Humie arrows. Wiv der 'eads.": — Sheglak, Orc Great Shaman

"Greenbane, mashed to a pulp with birch sap.": — Rikkit'tik, Clan Eshin "Scholar"

"Grotnib wrapped his tattered cloak around him and peered over the ramparts. The mountain pass was empty. The winds at this altitude were bone-chilling, and they whipped through the many holes in the tower levels below and produced a low moaning howl. It had been a full cycle of the moon since the Red Eye tribe had captured this stronghold, but the insides still reeked of smoke, ale, and Stunty in general. Grotnib longed to be off watch duty and back in the armer confines of the dark tunnels. If he squinted, he could just make out the next Stunty tower. It was hard to spot, hewn from the rock as it was. Even now, the tower was full of beardies who were probably looking out at him and massing for another attack. The thought of the fierce Stunts worried Grotnib back to his duty, and he roused himself. He rattled the long pole, that held the topmost lookout - one of many Snotlings that they had caught raiding the mushroom caverns. All the little runts resisted going up the pole, but it gave ‘em extra lookout distance. After all, the Stunts had already launched two counterattacks to retake their watchtower. Even after a good shake, there was no sound from above. Grotnib leaned back and focused his beady red eyes. Sure enough, the runt was still up there - curled around the top like a lump. Grouting yelled, cursed, threw stones, and finally shook with as much vigor as he could muster. As the pole swayed back and forth, at the very zenith of its swing, the Snotling dropped off. Momentarily framed against the clear night sky, the runt plummeted. Grotnib pulled down his hood, cocked his ear, and was rewarded by a faint squish from the rocks below. Grotnib shook his head, cupped his gnarled hands to his mouth and shouted. ‘Oi, down there. Send us up annuver Runt. Da last one froze up and fell off again.’": —

"Dem ‘umies’ll never know what ‘it ‘em. We ride in wiff flames, grab wot we kin eat, an burn da rest.": — Goblin Chief Groff Dogbreff before raiding and burning to the ground a series of villages and hamlets in Stirland

"Lady Spitzestadt went gambling with the Baron of Norden, won 1,500 Karls, and left with the Count of Nordland. Bastard.": — Gossip overheard in pubs and taverns across the Old World

"This is the worst winter we've had in years. I blame the Ulricans.": — Gossip overheard in pubs and taverns across the Old World

"Think ya know it all a'boot the Uhmpire, dooya? Well, lad, let me tell ya some lies then…": — Albrecht Mueller, Talabheim Barfly

"Stay in da mob, lady. If you cut an' run dem big birds'll swoop down an' carry you off like a scared rabbit. Den we'll never see you again!": — Goblin wisdom

"A great toothed coment came, It grew closer by the day, Fire roared the Sky, killed the night and drove the beast mad, The Maw was born from the fire, The earth shook as its coming, the flames ate many tribes, to the mountains some fled": — The Saga of the Ogres

"It descended from the dark skies like a firebolt. Hotter than a forge were its fires, and many of out kin were slain. On this beast we have sworn revenge.": — Entry from Ungrim Ironfist's Book of Grudges

"They are the finest of mounts, but never forget how dangerous they are. See these scars? They weren’t given to me by an enemy. As a boy, all I dreamed of was a chance to show my worth, to test my mettle on the field of battle. All the courage I mustered for my first combat was but little compared to war it took for me to climb onto a Griffon’s saddle. Astride the back of a Griffon, you know what it is to be in command, both the sweet and the bitter. You can see the sweep of the entire battlefield and know how your cause fares at all times. You can watch your enemies fall and see your men die. With a Griffon, you can turn the tide of war… but never forget that they resent the saddle and the one who sits upon it.": — Count Matthias Ostermark

"They scare me. More than all the other beasts, even that lizard from Lustria in the zoo. They’re always watching, waiting for you to slip up, to get a little too close. Then SNAP, you’re done. We draw lots, you know. Lots to see who has to feed them each week. We lose four or five boys every year to them. Deathclaw? None but Karl Franz himself feeds that one.": — Pieter, Imperial Stable Hand

"Oh, Aye it’s all fancy talk and great airs about what noble beasts they are, but it’s rubbish. I’ve scaled the World’s Edge near 20 years to bring back their chicks fed the gold and I’ve yet to meet a single one that isnät as dumb as a post. Those bird heads o’ theirs hold nothing but a bird’s brains. Toss them a large enough piece of meat and ye can walk right past, kick ‘em in the arse if you’ve a mind as you go, and they’ll take no notice of ye.": — Barthelm Vander, Hunter

"Here can be little doubt really: they are clearly creatures of Chaos. No wild beast was ever born with such a bizarre amalgamation of parts. A raptor's head does not find itself on the body of a lion without the most unnatural of influences being borought to bear. Oh, I grant that they are a stable mutation now. I daresay they have been for thousands of years. But once, long ago, they were born of Chaos, and to Chaos' purposes they may yet be turned.": — Eckhard, Nuln Scholar - Burned as a heretic

"The Halfling is but half as tall as a man but hath a greater appetite. He dwells in a hole burrowed out of the hill. He is oft times grumpy except when he feasts. He delights mostly in eating and drinking and telling of bawdy tales. He is a goodly shot with the bow and hath a dislike for Goblins and other sneaking things who would raid his foodstore. The Halfling is sturdy and round and hairy and sayeth little for he knoweth that a mouth is eating with. The Halflings do dwell in their own land which is called the Moot. It lieth in the midst of the Empire and is well hidden among woods. Here do they till the soil and grow an abundance of food, such that they feed the hungry cities of the Empire for a tidy sum of gold. Ye Halflings do not oft display valour save when the foe approacheth the baggage wagons wherein is stored the provisions. Then do they wax most wrothful and show expertise in fighting.": — From the Grimoire Aurus

"Though our fair homeland is beset on all sides, we shall resist, as our forefathers did before us. In these dark times, as our tainted brethren ravage our shores, we stand defiant and shall emerge victorious. For we are the Asur, the true kin of Aenarion, and Ulthuan shall never fall.": — Prince Tyrion, Defender of Ulthuan

"Stick ‘em wiv arrers, Stick ‘em wiv knives, and spears. Stick ‘em where it ‘urts. But most if all, stick ‘em when they’s looking the other way.": — Gorduz Backstabber, Hobgoblin Chieftain

"Life is a spark of light in the midst of endless darkness. We cling to love and hate, joy and pain, belief and fear, for they make us feel alive. Some of us are glorious, mighty men who will forge legends and burn like fiery stars in the darkness, casting the brief hope of life to this world. But in the end we will have to give up everything we have, and descend back to the endless, dreamless darkness, to be forever forgotten.": — Belannaer the Wise

"Ya mamas eatz pig dung, and ya papas stinks of elfses! Come ’n’ git me stoopid gitz! Youse fink youse more kunning dan da Great Gobspite Gutsik?": — Gobspite Gutsik, Night Goblin Shaman

"Hoy! Y'really made a mess of that, y’toadstool.": — Nazbad Wartfinger

"Come out, y'ugly snotling-fondler! I wants a word with ya!": — Dagscar Earscrappa

"We left the temple long before the fire started, Father Grossnase. You may not have seen us leave, but I'm certain you would have smelled us if we were anywhere within a mile.": — Bright Wizard Helena Feuerbach (alluding to the Priest's large nose)

"So dung ’edz. Why’s youze sneakin’ an’ peekin’ round ’ere? Flap ya tongues kwik, or Gobspite’ll prick out ya peeperz an’ suck on da jellies!": — Gobspite Gutsik, Night Goblin Shaman

"Can’t be bovva’d with youze dung ’edz. Gobspite’ll giv youze to da Sikboyz, den yer bitz wotz left, ’e’ll feed to da troll. Come on ladz, let’s leave ’em stew fer a bit.": — Gobspite Gutsik, Night Goblin Shaman

"The Jabberslythe is a loathsome beast, though rumours that even once slain, the beast's hideous appearance can slay a maiden that looks upon it, are probably false. Still, who but an unhappily married man would dare such a chance?": — The Duke of Artois

"No, I beg of you, master. Do not take the caravan into the deserts of Khemri, said Salib, the highly agitated caravan guide. No more of your tales, Salibm cursed Giles de Moussant. I’ve never met a people as superstitious as you lot. We have plenty of supplies. What can go wrong?": — Last Words of Bretonnian Tradesman Giles de Moussant

"By order of the great god Khorne whose name I called upon extolling his glory, he commanded that I should assail my enemies. When the command of Khorne, my lord, came to my ears From Wastes I departed to Kislev I marched straightaway. The boyars of Kislev mustered their fighting men against me, offering resistance in battle. I grasped in my hand the mighty axe, the weapon which Khorne had granted me. Like a linon I raged I butchered them like sheep with my terrible weapon. Not a man among them escaped. Their corpses I skewered on stakes, with their skulls I covered the altar of Khorne.": — From the monolith of Gerther von Stahl, the Exalted Champion of Khorne

"There are countless worlds beyond the void of chaos, endless kingdoms to conquer, cities to sack, forests to burn, warriors to slay in their millions. But by Khorne, I have chosen this world to conquer and conquer it I shall, even if it takes a thousand millennia.": — Khastarax, Daemon Prince of Khorne

"Close the door, and lock and latch Nippers like to cut and scratch! Stay in your bed through all the night Nippers like to cut and bite!": — Children's Rhyme

"The dead are as close to us as ice to snow.": — Oblast Saying

"To find your enemy, look behind your friend": — Kislevite Proverb

"Through blood runs power of land. Yha? If concentrate, can feel Ancient Widow in every beat of heart, in every breath, Kislev is land. Land is Kislev. We are Kislev!": — Baba Doya, Hag Witch

"Kislev is land, and land is Kislev!": — Kislevite Saying

"The strength of Kislev lies in you all. The land has called you all here, and it is here that you will put that strength to the test defying Chaos. There is power in this land, and tomorrow it will run in all your veins. Use it well.": — The Ice Queen of Kislev

"All their songs are sad, and all their wars are happy.": — Popular Tilean Saying of Kislev

"If you kill one man you are a murderer. If you kill ten you are a monster. If you kill a hundred you are a hero. If you kill ten thousand you are a conqueror!": — Boyar Alexandr of Kislev

"I swore that the Lammasu had a keener mind than the wizard who claimed to control it. Alas, I was right.": — Captain Grumman of the Averland Militia

"From dark playce I came, and to darker places still I travel, dear heart. Wyrm-midden and filth my crib, man-flesh and dead-thing my down. To the coast of far away land I sailed, to delve in dusty place. Not for glimmer, nor spark, but for Lizard-wyrd parchment and age-crusted name. Secrets and lies, from the birth of time, so all that is hidden be mine, my dear. Slime-thing lovers call sailors to salty death in my name. With a touch, ge rises once more, brine-blood vigor her delight. Her kiss is clammy little death. Her song calls men from every land, and my servants walk the land of swamp, doing death for all time.": — Luthor Harkon

"Now I issa returning to da Lustria, an I only hope that there is as much to see as what I said I seen last time. They say that there are many who lissen to the stories I tell and wanna see for themselves about thissa land of gold. I issa for the hot water iffa they don’ find nothing…": — Marco Colombo

"Lizard-stone tumble, and dead grey-meat my supper, the names of the Eldest spill from my lips, my love. Axolotl. The City of Lizard no more. Its secret places, secrets abhorred. But now High-Lizard cares. Cares to curse. Curse him thrice in payment shall I.": — Luthor Harkon

"We maka de good time across de big seas, an I think we get to de land of jungles before those silly people who follow us. Last night, we see de sails of many boats behind us, an I think we not only ones who come dis way.": — Marco Colombo

"At last we land on de land, a big beach that look like my old home. I get the wistful for it and wanna see it again, but I still don’ see no Skeggi! Twice I come to find it and still I come to da wrong place. Issa tricky place to find, eh?": — Marco Colombo

"Now strangers heed the song of the Brine-Maid, and glimmer they seek as all Men may. Multitudes and Legions land on sacred shore and make for Lizard-home. I shall steer them to riches beyond dreaming and do mischief to High-Lizard Lordling a-plenty.": — Luthor Harkon

"Mine emissaries make gifts to gruesome strangers: the skulls of the unliving carry soul-scum skimmings, brine-song echoing still. These they accept, for bauble and toy is all. In doing acceptance they make abasement, for debt is eternal, beyond mortal-man’s ken.": — Luthor Harkon

"Now we’s in de jungle an issa not good. De insects and de beasties bite and itch. I no remember it being this bad before. Me and de men go far into de jungle and find lots of gold, so men is happy. I wonder if issa same big lizard boss here. He nice to me and maybe we canna maka de bargain again.": — Marco Colombo

"Now Lizard-things tremble, and stranger wreaks mis-chief across the land of the Eldest. Glimmer-greed grips the hears of some, while others seek words, and others seek blood. Who prevails, I care not. I shall endure. Lizard-thing shall die, and green-flesh shall wither. The Names of the Eldest shall be mine, and all dead-things whisper my name, my love.": — Luthor Harkon

"Oh, we all in de big soup now! I seen loads de armies all across de jungle, fighting and being all nasty to each other! De gold is here, lots anna lots of it, but all dey wanna to do is fight! Issa all gonna end in tears, I tell you dat for sure!": — Marco Colombo

"On the fifth day of our expedition we lost yet another member of our party, but this time through the predations of the native fauna rather than through disease or malnutrition. Making our way northwest along a shallow, fast-flowing stream, the lead man stopped dead in his tracks, indicating with a petrified expression the water breaking around his feet. All stopped and looked down to the water, where we spied a glossy black tentacle working its way slowly up his leg. Not a man knew what to do, but soon it was too late to da a thing for the poor wretch was yanked most violently beneath the surface where a great commotion went up. In a short moment, the thrashing ceased and silence descended. Then, a great jet of gore ascended, showering all with blood and gristle. Upon wiping the filth from my eyes I discovered myself alone, my companions having demonstrated the good sense to flee for their lives. Seeing the wisdom of their actions I joined them forthwith…": — The journal of Johann Becksbein, day 5

"At the time of the three hundredth cycle of this world, the two moons shall unite and summon forth the rodent god and his evil spawn to deliver plague and pestilence upon the land named Lustria.": — Extract from the Prophecy of Sotek

"Woe to the warm-bloods who would despoil our realm, for their craving for trinkets and baubles drives them ever deeper into lands forbidden to them. Cast them out, show them no pity, feed their carcasses to the beasts of the jungle and leave their bones to blanch upon the golden shores of our land. Let them see that it is folly to intrude upon the domains of the Lizardmen.": — Translation of the proclamation of Lord Mazdamundi, from the Chronicle of Hexoatl.

"The rage of a Manticore is legendary and to behold such a creature in its wrath is nothing short of awe-inspiring. Its roar alone can cause warriors to flee the battlefield.": — Korhil, Captain of the White Lions

"According to Gaelen": — Undeniably true.

"Verena for rulers, but Gaelen for riches": — An epithet popular among university students, referring to the fact that while students of law frequently rise to high station and public office, students of medicine tend to be wealthier.

"Every demon hates his brother": — A more poetic version of the medical adage that "like cures like".

"Shallya give us thin priests and fat doctors": — A fat priest doesn't give enough to the poor, and a thin doctor isn't very successful at healing patients.

"A doctor for a diet, a surgeon for a cure": — -common saying among the lower classes referring to the fact that the treatments of physicians are typically longterm or ineffectual lifestyle requirements, while a surgeon takes a direct approach (lance the boil, cut out the infection, etc.) removing the problem.

"When the hounds of the wastes bay at Morrslieb, the foul moon bays back.": — Kislev Proverb

"In that dread desert, beneath moons’ pale gaze, the dead men walk. They haunt the dunes in that breathless, windless night. They brandish their weapons in mocking challenge to all life, and sometimes, in ghastly dry voices, like the rustling of sere leaves, they whisper the one word they remember from life, the name of their ancient, dark master. They whisper the name… Nagash.": — from the Book of the Dead by Abdul ben Rachid, translated by Heinrich Kemmler

"I have heard tell of other creatures in the south - the brain-worm, the swamp-fly - that lay their spawn within the flesh of men. I warrant these winged blasphemies do the same, using out very blood to warm their young. Woe, to be a cradle for a Daemon!": — Doktor Vilya Yevilnovich, Master Bestarius, University of Kislev

"CRUSH! STOMP! GORGE! SMASH! KILL!": — Olag Skullcracker, Tyrant

"The only good stunty is a dead stunty, and the only thing better ’n a dead stunty is a dyin’ stunty who tells yer where to find ‘is mates.": — Black Orc Warboss Morglum Necksnapper

"I’m gonna stomp ‘em to dust. I’m gonna grind their bones. I’m gonna burn down dere towns and cities. I’m gonna pile ‘em up inna big fire and roast ‘em. I’m gonna bash ‘eads, break faces and jump up and down on da bits dat are left. An’ den I’m gonna get really mean.": — Grimgor Ironhide, Black Orc Warboss

"Everyfing I see is mine. All da uvver bits are mine too - I just ain’t got there yet. When we reach da end of da world, we’ll turn around an’ march back.": — Grimgor Ironhide

"Two things that may be relied on - the swords of the Empire and the snows of the North.": — Ostland proverb

"I began this tome as a search for truth and while I'm certain there is truth in these pages, even I can't tell you exactly where it lies. I have sought to illuminate the threats that face the Old World but only Lord Sigmar can protect us from the machinations of evil and the enemy within. May he guide and watch over us all.": — Odric of Wurtbad

"I've been a sewer man for all my life, but never seen anything like what I saw down there today.": — Gurnek Rausmann, Altdorf Sewerjack

"Words simply cannot express the full horror of the beast. Its pustulent hide was distressing enough to behold, but the smell? It was less an odour than a malefic spirit in its own right. I don't believe I shall ever be free of it.": — Prince Yorec of Lothern

"Death or Glory… is of no matter.": — Kislevite Saying

"Be organised. Rule one, dat is. Rule one!": — Skarsnik, Warlord of the Eight Peaks

"Rule number two,’ Ain’t no one more important than me.": — Skarsnik, Warlord of the Eight Peaks

"Rule free, y’see, always have another plan what can go if your first plans go wrong.": — Skarsnik, Warlord of the Eight Peaks

"Rule number four: a frustrated enemy is the worst kind": — Skarsnik, Warlord of the Eight Peaks

"Rule five! Get them in the side.": — Skarsnik, Warlord of the Eight Peaks

"That’s anuvver rule, You gotta listen, see?": — Skarsnik, Warlord of the Eight Peaks

"That’s another rule, right dere, humie. To be da boss, don’t matter how many rules you’ve got, you gotta be lucky too.": — Skarsnik, Warlord of the Eight Peaks

"You see, humie, that’s rule eight. Play dead when it suits ya": — Skarsnik, Warlord of the Eight Peaks

"The reason that Kadon succeeded in binding monsters where other mages failed was a simple one: rather than attempting to suppress his catspaw's primal instincts, Kadon embraced it. Chadian's scrolls of binding therefore stand in testament to an uncomfortable truth: that a primitive mind might work wonders where the careful reasoning of a more sophisticated one would surely fail. This thought is uncomfortable for any Elf to entertain but, if Ulthuan is to endure, its loremasters can no longer underestimate the magic of humans simply because the humans themselves are inferior.": — Teclis

"I would forfeit my only remaining hand to be with you, madame. Oh, those eyes of molten moonlight, your voice of the morning breeze. If I am indeed a criminal, then surely the greatest punishment is to have my passion for you shackled. I have stolen only a few coins, but you have stolen my heart!": — Bretonnian Robber Poet Jules Robillard (spoken to the jailer's daughter)

"Stunties hide unnerground, and pansy-elves hide in the trees. Thas why I prefers yer ‘umans. They builds sorta ‘ollow rocks, with ‘oles for comin’ and goin’ fru. They builds ‘em on hills where you’s have to climb a bit, but at least they’s in the open where a lad can get at ‘em. So, you can lob a few rocks at the walls, bash few the holes, and get in there to nick all their gear, wivvout wunderin’ if the roof is gonna fall on yer nut or if you’s gonna fall off a branch. I like bashin’ ‘uman places. Only they don’ call it bashin’: they calls it a seej.": — Enz Splitter, noted Orc strategist (deceased)

"Knock down da walls wiv big rocks and kill all the men wiv arras.": — Marak Barbspite, as told to the Altdorf Times while the orc was being cooked over an open fire.

"Issa stupido to builda a wall iffa you ain’ agonna hide behind it.": — A Treatise for de Deliverance of Cities by Giovanni Marmalodi

"Marktag, 2nd Pflugzeit 2399. As we were warned, the orcish host arrived before the walls of Zakgrape this morning. They have plundered the countryside here about, and will now - surely - attack this castle. I count there to be at least 500 of them, not including camp followers. My defenders number about 200, although I shall press some of the women and old men into service if required. This morning, the orcs have contented themselves with pillaging the village outside, though they mounted a strong guard beyond the gate to prevent us making an ill-advised sally. I have ordered my men to maintain a high visibility, so that our number appear greater than they are, and have kept my strongest numbers on the south gate and in the flanking towers.": — Journal of Ilich Meinbach, p19

"Remember - when you build a wall to shelter behind, you are also building a trap. If the wall is strong, and flanked by towers, the enemy will be trapped. But if the wall is carried, the the other walls will hem in your defenders, and leave them ripe for massacre.": — Magnus the Pious (attributed)

"Whena you are defending a castillo, retreat issa not a worda you canna use. You still gotta capitulation, surrender, submitta, yield, crappa da pantsa, be a doormat, wave the white flag….": — Marmalodi: ibid, p525-579 and Appendix I

"Backertag, 3rd Pflugzeit 2399. They have made their first assault against the walls, on this second day. Presumably, they wished to check our resolve and test our defences. They will have found both to be ample. Shortly after first light, they came with grapples and ladders against our west wall, while their archers kept up a steady fire from close in. The sun was rising above the wall, which silhouetted our defenders against it, and made them targets for their arrows. They attacked the centre of the wall, but our towers are built close enough together that no point of the wall is beyond arrow range, and we kept steady fire against them. A few men were killed by arrows leaning over the battlements to sever the ropes of the orcs grapples, but I ordered them to cease this, and to burn the ropes through instead. The orc’s ladders were useless and they lost their footing easily. By the end of the attack, perhaps fifteen of the enemy were dead, and more injured besides. We lost just five.": — Journal of Ilich Meinbach, p21

"The only possible way an attacker can carry one of those accursed stone forts is to advance under the heaviest barrage of missiles possible. This is where the elf forces achieved their greatest successes: the defenders, unable to spread out, are ripe for slaughter beneath a cloud of arrows, and cannot deploy much effective missile fire of their own, hampered by the limited arcs of fire within their walls.": — Allurian: Elven War Studies, p3

"Konistag, 29th Pflugzeit 2399. All day long the orcish host has been firing arews at the towers and walls on the west side, and making small scale assaults against the walls. Then tonight, perhaps an hour before dusk, they launched their hardest assault to date. 200 of their number rushed the north wall with a ram. All the while, their archers kapt up a hail of arrow fire. Many arrows were fired over the walls, to make transferring our weight from wall to wall hazardous. More were targeted at the defender of the gate towers and the north wall. Our own men, firing from the ramparts and the towers, were unable to match the weight of fire, but killed many of the foe. Their worth was shown when the enemy briefly gained the north rampart, where they were quickly cut down. Their most heavily armoured warriors at the south gate were less easily pierced, until the men in the gate towers skewered three with crossbows. After two hours, the attack ended in the dark. I counted thirty enemy dead, and others were seen to be removed. Five bodies were thrown off the north rampart. Our own losses were sixteen dead, and another twelvee wounded, making our total loss of life thirty-eight so far.": — Journal of Ilich Meinbach, p49

"If the battlements are carried, throw all your strength there! Such an advantage is always dearly won.": — Albrecht of Tisenbreck: The Art of the Siege

"In order, the most vunerable parts of a castle’s defences are the gate, the walls and the towers. Therefore, the greatest effort should be made to pierce the gate, unless it is stoutly defended by towers and outworks. If this is not possible, then the walls must be carried, breached or mined, at whichever point is least well guarded by towers and interior fortifications. Never attack the towers. If no other assault is possible, the settle for starving out the most vulnerable resource a fortress has - its defenders.": — Speech of Hasso, Emperor, before the attack on Streissen

"Assa the leading experta onna da siege warfare, I am often asked, how canna we maka da gates so that a they can’t be broken by batteringa-rams, and de bigga giants with the tree branches. I say to them, ey stupido, you can’ta stoppa dem lika dat. Watta you gotta do is maka the gates so small that they can’ta be hit by the big balls and the trees and things. You maka da gates so they only four foota high, howa a gianta going to get his ‘ead through? Smarta thinking, eh? But you heara complaints alla de time. The people can’ta get througha de gates, they say, anda we donta have a siege all de time. You can’ta helpa some people. ": — Marmalodi: ibid, p509

"It issa mucha disputed as to what are da besta weapons fora making de siege. You gotta de stona throwers anna de bolt throwers, anna all kinda cannons. Gunpowder is a grayta invention. Iffy you can getta holda of a few mortars or bombards, you canna make de big holes in de walls. But you gotta have de right ammunition. So, a stona thrower canna be justa as good. For ammunition, you can digga uppa de rocks an’ the de stones, or use de big balls, or you can shoot dayd peoples over the wall to make the place stink. You canna even maka de spaghetti and shoota dat, or de razor-edged pizza.": — Marmalodi: ibid, p822

"The softest part of the castle is the belly of the man inside.": — Anon

"Festag, 30th Sigmarzeit 2399. Today, we came closest to defeat, and have suffered much loss of life. For nineteen days now, the orcs’ stone thrower has been pummelling the north wall. Just after noon today a particularly heavy stone smashed into the north-east tower, about nine feet above the base, and it collapsed. Six men were carried to their deaths. Within minutes, the foe responded. Six enormous trolls and a war-leader mounted on a wolf led fifty of their number against the breach. Although the wall remained nine feet high, there was sufficient rubble thereabouts to make the ascent easier. Within minutes, we were hand-to-hand with the foe in the ruins of the tower and suffering grievous losses. Unable to use our bows, we were forced to trade blow for blow, as the fight spilled into the courtyard. Two fanatical goblins whirling enormous spiked balls on the end of stout chains joined the battle, and most of the enemy host pressed at the back of their ranks. For three hours we struggled, but finally the assault was repulsed. We were aided by the final collapse of the rest of the tower, which buried a regiment of goblins, and starved the front ranks of reinforcement just when we had a slight advantage. We burned the trolls who were trapped inside, and put the goblins to the sword. The foe had left forty-five of their number slain - and we had twenty-five dead, two-score wounded, and others buried beneath the masonry. The rest of us worked like demons to restore the wall using the fallen stone to build a rampart, and clearing the loose rubble which had made a ramp on the out side. A wooden wall behind the first was also commenced. At dusk, the goblins began firing their engine once again… ": — Journal of Ilich Meinbach, p55

"You can’ta just ignore a castillo. De men insida might be naughty fellows and attacka you once you marcha by. De smarta-alek words for dis is dat dey remayne a threat to communications. Dis is right. Anda iffa you don’t get the letters from home, howa you gonna know how your mama is?": — E Marmalodi: A Treatise for the Deliverance of Cities, p109

"What I like best about a siege is that there is nowhere for them to run…": — Witch-hunter Zacharia Schmundt

"Sonnstill Summer Solstice, 2399. Although we have not yet begun to run short of arrows - the enemy have kept a steady supply coming over the walls for the last three months - we have learned to use alternative missiles whenever the foe are close by: We had a plentiful supply of boulders at the beginning of the siege, and these have been augmented by the masonry of the lost north-east tower. These will smash a ladder of a battering ram shelter most effectively. For the larger siege towers the enemy has begun to construct, we use oil, pitch and fire, although the foe have had some success in flame-proofing their latest constructions. We have used lime, hot sand - even a bees nest. These methods have kept us safe for 98 days, and have caused the enemy to lose over 200 fighters.": — Journal of Ilich Meinbach, p83

"They’re out of arrows men, they’re out of boiling oil. They’ve used the molten lead, and the baked sand. and the furniture. They’ve nothing left to defend themselves with! So, up, my lads, and today Faenasti will be ours!": — Count Rudolf von Alptraum, at the siege of Faenasti in the Border Princes, during the War of the Barrel, 2319-20. The Count was killed when the defenders of Faenati levered part of the wall onto his head.

"Festag, 12th Vorgeheim 2399. Another grim day. While we watch the crops in the fields being despoiled, the enemy grows bolder. Once more they attacked our weakened defences at the north-east corner. The four trolls led the attack - what beast they are! Swinging massive clubs, they have demolished the inner wooden wall, and have cleared away much of the rubble with which the curtain wall was rebuilt. We trapped one in a giant pit, and it is slain, at least. But the monsters have caused us more casualties we could ill afford.": — Journal of Ilich Meinbach, p115

"Geheimnistag, 2399. The Night of Mystery is well named. For us, it has meant near-disaster. Tonight, the foe crept up in the stillness, and brought a battering ram protected by a siege tower close by the gate, and picks and iron bars with which to attack the walls. Meanwhile, they launched a suicidal attack against the northh-eastern rampart, which we have repaired since the last assault five days ago. Though both attacks were repulsed, the gate now sags on its hinges, and the open wall where once the north-eastern tower stood is levelled. We have no wood left to rebuild our defences. From now, we must withstand each new attack in the open.": — Journal of Ilich Meinbach, p126

"Arrows are useless against a castle - you can only win by using heavy wall-breaching equipment, which is why dwarfs are the superior race in siege warfare. If you are the besieger, can’t hit anything worthwhile at all. If you are inside the castle, you might think arrow-fire would be effective from the towers - but which would you prefer to be hit by;a pointy sitck or a 30lb rock?": — Berndt Lavaspear: The Dwarfen Art of War. p5

"Walls can’t dodge.": — Siege Engineer Uwe Diamondscar at the siege of the Goblin fort of Three Pikes

"There issa nothing lika da siege for da true spirit of war! When I sit inna the camp, watching the enginesa shooting de great big rocks at the walls, and smashing de place up, itty warmsa my heart. You canna keppa your battls and all that noisy cavalry boom-boom stuff. Give me a ballista and plenty of distance, and I show you how a real mana fights!": — Marmalodi: ibid, p509

"Wellentag, 4th Erntzeit 2399, Barely 80 of my men reported fit for duty this night. We have been on half-rations for eleven days now, and the wounded have sickened for the want of fresh food. The foe have reaped the harvest - except for that they destroyed two months ago - and seem prepared to stay even through the winter which, I confess, is the goal I have set for our survival, since none have come to our aid. Because the situation is desperate, I chose a desperate method of redress. I ordered a sally, and found full fifty of my men prepared for this most headlong enterprise. We dismantled the flimsy barricade across the gateway, and charged out at dusk. At first, all went well enough. The forward watch of the foe was over-whelmed and died to a man. We captured three waggons of supplies, which were drawn swiftly back into the castle. Then, we ran into the hearthworks and contravellations which the orcs have built. Spiked tree trunks felled our horses, high ramparts sheltered archers, and deep trenches turned our path into a maze. *Having lost twelve men, I ordered the retreat. It seems we are sealed in here for good… or evil…": — Journal of Ilich Meinbach, p115

"I canna tell you that it wassa me who invented one offa the foremosta techniques used inna siege warfara. Back a few yearsa back, we hadda war agaynst a city just along the coast. They wera very naughty fellows, and tried to make ussa pay sixteen taxes to use the road through their town, when alla the civiliseda world only makes people pay ten. So, we wenta to their city and we maka de attack. But, it no good. So, being sensible good fellows as well as de heroesa, we maka de camp and starta de siege. Betweena de siesta anna de tea brayk - every other day - we maka de great attack against the walls for a half hour or more, and we getta de big guns to go boom-boom agaynst de walls. But stilla dey don’ta listen to de reason. So, the Kinga he say to me, Marmalodi, grayt chap and close friend who issa gonna get medals by a de ‘atload on account offa being so brave, Marmalodi he say, how we gonna get inside the city with nobody get hurt, least of all me? Well, I tella him, the trouble is that each time we marcha uppa to de walls, dose naughty boys dry droppa de rocks on our ‘eads and make with de shooting of de arrows. We need to sneak up on dem a little bit. If we digga de mine, we canna go right under de walls and come up in a nica little restaurant whicha ain’t too dear. So, we starta da mine. But de men dey ay de dirt maka de uniforms all mucky, and deyre mothers dey no thinka dey grayt soldiers in the war lika dat ‘ero Marmalodi. So, we haveta maka de mine not so deep and without de top. You mighta calla it a trench. But, we still dig towardsa de walls. Something go a little wronga with a de direction a bit, an’ we end up missing the town a bit, so I maka de corrections, and off we go again. But we missa de walls agayn. Well, thisa went on for a few days, and we zigged and zagged until we reached de walls. And whaddaya know - becausee the trench she no strayt, the enemy in the town coulda not see inna de trench and maka de arrows. So they give up, anda nobody get hurt. Marmalodi say de King. De trench she no strayt. You’ra a sapa, he say. So, nowa you know. This is how de sappers dey get started.": — Marmalodi: ibid, p1248

"If you built walls under your castle to keep out the mines, and walls above the castle to keep out the giants and the flying creatures, then you might have a safe castle. Except for magic. And running out of food.": — Anon

"That's not a fortress. That’s a deathtrap.": — Last words of Count Volstag before his ancestral castle was overrun by Goblins (attributed).

"His guard dog is the size of a bloody pony! I didn't go past the gate, mind you, but I swear the beast also had a rat's tail. Not only that, but peculiar sounds were coming from his workshop;sort of chittering voices. If I hadn't been half-lit, I might've been able to make out what they were saying, but it sure didn't sound natural.": — Halfling Rouge Jakob Merryweather (Having a quick pint with the yokels)

"All decent folk find the common rat repulsive. Harbinger of disease, it scavenges on our waste-heaps and frightens our children. How immeasurably worse then is the foul Skaven - standing on its hind legs in a foul parody of a human. Rats as tall as man, and blessed with the most vile intellect and cunning. They are the dark side of our soul, come to destroy us for our sins.": — Albrecht of Nuln. Burned at the stake, IC 1301, for pernicious declamation.

"Look! Humie! Fight it fight it fight it! Jab jab jab! Get it get it get it! Yarrrggg!": — Assorted Snotlings

"It would be waste of perfectly good venom. The wound you would inflict to deliver the toxin would in itself be sufficient to slay the thing.": — Rikkit'tik, Clan Eshin "Scholar"

"Vicious little things. In case it’s true that they’re the next generation of Greenskins, kill them whenever you get a chance.": — Leonhard, Mercenary

"Ahhhh, baby goblins! Cuuute!": — Elke Rabe, Camp Follower, attached to the baggage train of the Imperial Stirland Guards.

"Just don’t make the mistake of laughing so hard they stab you in the ankle.": — Captain Schultz, Mercenary Commander

"If I find out 'oo ate me favourite snottie then there is gonna be sum trouble. I wuz savin him, I wuz. Ded clever lil' feller - he could fetchit right quick. Cource it wuz never wot I asked fer, but yer could see he wuz eager. Poor lil' feller.": — Orc Warlord Grizguts Badax

"When I'm takin' da ladz out on da march, I bring a few o' dem Snotlings along wif us. You never know when you might need some tents put up, some wood cut, or some choppas made nice an' sharp. On da uffer hand, you never know when you might get 'ungry for a quick bite, an' dey's just as good for dat.": — Nork Blackdagger, Orc Boss, Bloody Sun Boyz tribe

"Whether Snotlings truly are infant Goblins and Orcs, or whether they are simply the smallest and most degenerate of the Greenskin species, is still a matter that is very much open to debate. Certainly they closely resemble the larger Greenskins, but that could be the case whichever theory is true. They Orcs and Goblins barely acknowledge their existence other than to give them a beating every now and again, and certainly have no interest in debating where they come from, but once more, for a Greenskin that might be an equally appropriate attitude to have towards one's children as towards a related but essentially inferior species. The only way to resolve the matter with any certainty is to capture a swarm of Snotlings and keep them well fed, watching over the years to determine if they grow into Goblins and perhaps even into Orcs.": — Heinrich Malz, High Priest of Verena, Nuln.

"The worst thing about a snowstorm is that Yhetees can be upon you before you know it - it's like the storm itself grows claws.": — Gunrek Thorson, Dwarf Ranger

"It took our patrol quite a while to march to the gatehouse, for the road was strewn with spider webs that we had to cut through. We should have realised that something in the forest was watching us…": — Captain Goetz of the Drakwald patrol

"It’s sort of a symbio - a symbeer - a connection ‘tween us and da Squigs, dat means dey eat us sometimes and we eat dem, too. A bit like humies and us. Whaddya mean ya don’t eat us when you catch us? Why not?": — Figlak, Night Goblin Shaman

"Typical Goblin weapon, a great bouncing mouth that will eat anything it happens to land on. No subtlety to it, no innovation, no invention. Still, a crossbow bolt or two will see to them all right.": — Gialar Kunst, Dwarf Loremaster

"Fast and vicious, you don’t want to get caught by them. Still they’re not too hard to slay - a good downright blow will kill one of them. You have to be quick, though, or they’re past you and gallivanting all over the battlefield.": — Alphonse, Bretonnian Man-at-Arms

"Considering they’re Night Goblin food, they taste surprisingly good. We were fed with spit-roasted Squigs one time we did a bit of business with the Crooked Moon Goblins. They were moist and flavoursome, with all the taste of a smoked ham but the lightness of a young chicken. Ever since then I’ve offered soldiers a bounty on fresh-killed Squigs, because I can always find customers to buy them, a lot of the inns round here serve up Squig regularly. No, I never tell them what they’re really buying, of course not - do you think I’m stupid or something?": — Kastar Handlin, Travelling Merchant

"When you first see a Squig herd being forced onto the battlefield by their Night Goblin herders, you don’t know whether to laugh or soil yourself. They bounce all over the place like some kind of mad circus act, the Night Goblins adding to the weird carnival look of the thing by capering about and screaming themselves. Then one of those things just bounces right through your regiment like a giant cannonball, and you know that laughter is not the right response": — Leonhard, Mercenary

"...an' dis one's Chompy! Chompy's a right devil he is! Rip a bugger right in two! See dis scar 'ere on me arm? Dats ol' Chompy's 'andywork! I'mna go grab 'im...": — Greenstumps, Goblin Squig Herder

"Squigs are part animal and part fungus, but mostly claws and teeth.": — Unknown.

"Oi, Grobnut! What’s big, bouncy and bites yer head off? Ask my mate at the back of that cave down there, he’ll tell yer the answer...": — Gibblet, Night Goblin Shaman

"Without a doubt, one of the most peculiar creatures you will find in this world is the Squig. Whereas most living things can be categorized as belonging to either the realm of plant or animal, the Squig seems to belong equally to both. It is not easy to imagine such a thing. Imagine, if you can, a large and colorful clump of fungus that has come to life, hopping about and sporting a large maw filled with sharp teeth. It is a beast every bit as dangerous as it is odd.": — Professor Sebastian Geisen, University of Nuln

"I call dis one 'ere Gerty...she's not much to look at, but d'ose horns 'n teef 'll put even da oldest Ironbreakas 'n a panic. If she don't do 'er job, wot wit da bitin an' crushin', da ole girl 'll find 'erself 'elpin' me in othah ways.": — Rozgar, Veteran Squig Herder, pointing at his favorite Squig

"Suntree sap, smeared onto caltrops.": — Rikkit'tik, Clan Eshin "Scholar"

"To be sure, it was an inauspicious time to have a baby, I always said… Why, Morrslieb was fat, Dragomas the Drake was in ascendant, and the Big Cross was nowhere in the sky… That newborn babe was pulled from its mother, and I wasn't surprised to see the babe touched…": — Lucretia, Wise Woman

"Never have we seen such a creature: it is mighty, even in death. After the beast's rampage was eventually stopped it was killed and dismembered, but its great heart beat for long hours thereafter.": — Logbook of the Black Ark, the Tower of Dread

"Ancient walls crumble, old hearts despair. In the baleful light of Morrslieb’s eerie glow, the bewitching gale of eldritch power makes frail mockery of earthly stone and brick-built rampart. Centuries old bastion and iron fort, long assumed impregnable, are broken and smashed asunder, rendered unto dust by the tempest. A great conflagration of twisting, swirling magic rises up, engulfing the city in a deadly fountain of caustic faerie-fire. The flame’s lurid hues leap and swirl franticly. First slick red of blood, then cold mysterious blue, gives way to the ghastliest of greens. At once fetid brown filled with death and decay, becomes a soulless black laced with blinding white. An endless cascade of colour-splashed insanity. The firestorm strips bare the cobbled streets and lofty balconies, and lifts tiles from olden roofs, scattering debris all over.The crackling and roaring of the arcane winds, is drowned by an almighty crash as the very sky is ripped apart. From realm of daemon pours forth the horde, of dread nightmares made flesh. A gibbering, capering, caterwauling, howling menace, the inhuman tide brooks no resistance, all defenders are swept to oblivion. Such is the fate of things, when the bad moon rises too close for comfort. Time forgotten magics are now easily recalled, venerable magic items are charged with burgeoning energies, dusty parchments give up ancient secrets anew. Wizards, warlocks and witches are twisted by fresh ambition, yearning to wield the supernatural forces unleashed. Places of power are exposed by the gusting weirdness, and the world is shaken by the wrath of the storm.": —

"These storms are to be much feared - for in them are the echoes f the bitter past and promises of an abominable future.": — Teclis, teaching at the Colleges of Magic.

"The end is nigh; a storm of wrath is coming. Madness will rain from the sky, and its fury walk Monsters. Our doom cometh!": — Dammos, Disciple pf the Red Redemption.

"Who knows what evil dwells ‘neath the eaves of Arden? Few who pass beneath those eaves ever come out again…": — A Bretonnian peasant’s warning to the curious.

"When the green orb hangs heavy in the night sky and the wind howls - it is our time. It is time to take what has long been promised…": — Dark Promise of the Six Spikes.

"Flank 'em, shoot 'em, hit 'em hard, and then do it again from annuver angle. Of course, if da battle is going bad for our side, I'm gonna keep ridin' and act like I wuz never there, so yer'd better stick close!": — Gitilla da Raider's advice to his new recruits

"Men of Estalia or the Empire will confidently assure you that there are no cities in the region and that even the grandest of the so-called princes are merely upstart brigands. Those whose notion of a city is formed by the knowledge of Magritta or Altdorf are justified in saying that no such place exists in the Border Princes, but there are walled towns in the region much greater in size than Arjijil, which the people - who know no better- think of as great cities. Such places are sometimes little more than huge fortresses, to which the entire population of a region might retire in time of invasion. Eachon has its own prince, and each on has its own tiny empire - for even such small cities as these must rely on the produce of a legion of farmers.": — Orfeo the Minstrel explaining the Border Princes to Alkali Nasreen, Caliph of Arjijil

"Tell the baron on no account to enter the hills to the south. Tell him to stay by Thunder River. I would not have it on my conscience that he ventured into the Geistenmund Hills unwarned.": — Lord of the Freistadt of Akendorf.

"Where march you, men of Reikland. Where carry you halberds and sword? We march to war for our Emperor And Sigmar, our saviour and lord. Tomorrow we go to war to face the hosts of Chaos. Tomorrow we will be buried in the cold graves that await us. And when this war is done, and my body lies on the field at night Hear my prayer, save my soul, Lord Sigmar take me to your light.": — Old Soldier’s song from Reikland

"There are no problems that cannot be solved with cannons.": — Chief Engineer Boris Kraus of Nuln

"All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men. Their dreams are dreams of hope, of improvement, of change. Amongst these are rise the damnable followers of Chaos.": — From the Lectures of Grand Theogonist Volkmar

"So soon the hour of fate comes around. The Everchosen stirs from his dark throne, and prepares the blow that shall split the world asunder. Realms of old are fallen, lost beneath the fury of the northlands, or smothered by the vermin from below. Some heroes battle on, too stubborn to recognise that all hope is lost. Their time is past, a new age of Chaos and dismay beckons. Perhaps I am foolish also, for I fight with no hope of victory. I seek only to weaken the Dark Gods, to shake their hold upon the future. No other course remains; not to mortals, nor to the divine.": — These are the End Times.

"I have seen this world's demise. Morrslieb, the accursed orb, waxes large. Impossibly large. The moon will fall, the oceans will boil, the mountains will break. To the stars some will go, but the stars themselves will abandon this world. The scratching beyond the walls can only mean one thing - the vermin are here. It is they that gnaw at the frayed ends of the world. Ceaselessly the plot, tirelessly they agitate. Yet never once do they imagine that they too are puppets, moving upon strings that never envisioned. The worst is still ahead…": — These are the End Times.

"The cycle of history repeats itself, much to the Dark Gods’ merriment. We approach the hour of the last phoenix, when only Asuryan’s fading power can save us from thirsting Khaine. The fate of the elves now relies upon two realms: one doomed to perish in fire and slaughter, and one that shall endure whilst I have strength to defend it. Mortals shall assume divine roles, the heirs of Aenarion will fight the final battle, and the accursed Widowmaker shall be freed from its prison of stone.": — These are the End Times.

"I have seen the doom of man. It is written in the stars, an imen borne upon the twin-tailed comet that blazes bright across the firmament. The barbarous tribes of the north will see it as a sign of their final victory over the world. Yet the children of the Heldenhammer shall look upon it in hope and fear alike. Hope, that heralds the return of their most glorious champion. Fear, that it signals the death of all their kind has achieved. And they are right to do so. In the north, foul hordes flock to the banner of the Three-Eyed King. Like blood pulsing from a wound in the world’s crown, they march south to bring the touch of Chaos to all. The Everchosen’s warlords shall plunge their blades deep into the civilised realms, looting fallen empires for their own glory. Brothers three shall bring low the Empire of Man. It is they who will muster the plague-kissed in their master’s name. It is they who will cast the curse of unbound life, a curse that will bring primal disorder to a world of hard-won progress. United, the lords of disease shall bring the Old World to the brink of ruin - ruin from within, and from without. All things clean and true shall sicken and fade. The gods of man shall fade with them, until only death holds the key to salvation.": — These are the End Times.

"I have seen this world's demise. Morrslieb, the accursed orb, waxes against crimson skies. Magic rises and reality subsides, leaving only madness in its wake. Vermin cease their gnawing and swarm to the surface, answering their horned master’s call. First to fall are the temples of the Old Ones, abandoned by defenders who know that the end draws near. Mankind does not recognise its doom - not yet. They hear only the drums in the north, and know that war is come. Some will fight. Others will abandon reason, seeking salvation in scripture or the scourge. They are deceived. The Dark Brothers are stronger than ever before, and the old gods fade. Only in death will any respite be found. In a land of mist, the danger is closer still. Pride has ever been the folly of that shrouded land, and so it will be again. When the dragons fly as one, an ancient lie will at last be exposed, a revelation that will shake Ulthuan to the roots of its mountains. The mirror of light and dark will shatter, and Aenarion’s heirs will fight for the legacy of Khaine amidst the ashes of the phoenix. The three-eyed king has long awaited this moment, the hour in which his destiny is at last unveiled. He leads an army of madness and rage, against which no sane being would willingly stand. Perhaps I am not sane, as I will fight one last time. Not for victory, but for survival, for the hope that a spark can endure. It is a slender hope, and the laughter of Dark Gods rings loud in my ears.": — These are the End Times.

"Sigmar was a weakling, and his Empire is founded on a falsehood. I shall destroy him, and his false god. The city of Ulric will burn and the memoryy of the upstart king shall be obliterated.": — Archaon, Lord of the End Times

"Esteemed Colleagues. Following, you will find the journal of a Bürgermeister from a small town deep in the wilds of Ostland. Why, you ask, have I forwarded this wretched journal along? Indeed, the battered and blood-stained original has already been passed around the Imperial Council. It has been read by the academy at Altdorf and by Captains as part of their training. This journal is well known to Witch Hunters and Priests of Sigmar. Why do I spread this tale about the doings of a small colony of tradesmen and farmers? No matter which provinces you serve, no matter which tour of duty you pull, no matter what town you call home, the enemy is out there waiting. He is always moving against us. Let this sorrowful tale serve as warning. Do not drop your guard. Never open your heart to despair. There are many paths by which the enemy may attack, and sometimes these routes lie within each of us.": — Captain Strasse
Sole Survivor of Nordsteim

"Today was the celebration of my 6th year as Bürgermeister of Nordsteaim. Captain Strasse had the entire garrison of troops march through the streets, and there was quite a celebration at the Red Wolf Inn. My latest Imperial Reports off to Altdorf are full of raging successes (all true). If I happened to omit the atrocities that recently occurred on the outskirts of town, then I hope Sigmar can forgive me. Still, how does the burning of a few outlaying cottages compare with increases in population and taxes? When I was first posted here, it was just a crossroads and a clearing in the forest. Now we have a proper town. A single incident of some banditry and some burned houses may alarm the locals, but I don’t want this information passed any further up the chain. Still, that reminds me to put up notices. Rumours that the villagers’ bodies were half-eaten and savaged are just not true. Must remember to ask the good Captain Strasse exactly what he thinks did happen to the bodies.": — from the Journal of Bürgermeister Nusbaum
Year 6. Day 1

"Bad news today. At dawn everyone could see the pall of smoke hanging over the northern woods. Riders were sent out and returned with news that the woodsmen’s cottages up in Northcuttings were naught but soldering ruin. Even worse, after investigating with a patrol, Captain Strasse has returned, and now even he is telling tales and discussing possible raids! I warned him not to follow such a course, but the men had already heard it. Hoof prints in the mud indeed - nonsense! Nordsteim may be on the border - in truth, we may be far out in the wild. We may be under the very eaves of the Forest of Shadows, but those are tales of a different era - just stories to scare children. Now is the reign of Karl Franz, for Sigmar’s sake! Still, there was no dissuading the Captain. A mounted party left immediately to travel the roads and warn travellers and the southern villages before reporting in to the Ostfort. If this group should run into a trade caravan, then all my work and efforts will be put back 5 years. If only they’d let me handle things my way.": — from the Journal of Bürgermeister Nusbaum
Year 6. Day 21

"Ever since the patrol heading south to the Ostfort was ambushed, things have gone from bad to worse. It is those abominations, those beasts that walk as men. Those who made it back from the patrol were few. We have tried several more sorties, two by roadway and one in which the brave souls attempted to throw off the forest devils by heading along little-known game paths. All met with failure, and none have made it through to tell of our plight. We know this from the gruesome trophies left on poles along the roads. The Ostfort is but a 4-day journey, but we have no volunteers. We are surrounded and down 32 soldiers. Captain Strasse has called up the militia, and even as I write this, I can hear them drilling. Many of the settlers have been slain, but more still have moved back to town with there belongings in carts. They all fear to take the roads out of Nordsteim. The days are filled with work. Trees have been felled, watch posts built, and rough palisade has gone around the entrance to town. All of this is happening at a time when so many should be harvesting the autumn crop before winter. And yet I must report that the days are better than the nights. The foret never seemed so dark and foreboding. Watchfires at all the road entrances burn until the sun rises. Even with the shutters closed and barred, the night is full of sounds. We all sleep uneasily.": — from the Journal of Bürgermeister Nusbaum
Year 6. Day 36

"Two nights in a row, they have come to test our defences and not found us wanting. It is well that the trees around the town were felled. This has proven to be a killing ground for our archers and handgunners. With brazen horn blasts, the beasts announced their comming last night. I could hear their horrible voices, guttural and low, but there were words in the growling - although I could not understand them. Despite our sleepless night, the morning broke fair, and crews ventured out to clear the dead. Well over a dozen of the foul creatures have been counted. Some are large with great horns. All are to be burned on the bonfires. The beasts have the low cunning to surround us, but our stake walls have vexed them. I’m hoping a force from the fort should investigate any day now. They will clear the roads, and it will be safe again soon. We have gathered what food we could from outlaying areas and stocked it in the Red Wolf Inn. I have supervised this. During an attack, this Inn is the meeting spot for those who cannot defend the walls. I myself have kept an eye on the poor souls who gather here during the nights. Why did I ever come to this forsaken forest?": — from the Journal of Bürgermeister Nusbaum
Year 6. Day 53

"The gaps in our wall have now been mended, but from now on, I shall think of the structure as more of a fence than a wall. There was more than savage cunning in last night’s attack. Some creature of greater intelligence seems to be driving the Beastmen now. They no longer announce their charges with horn blasts and instead prefer to creep close in the dark before launching an assault. The men on watch are weary - every shadow sends out an alarm. Last night was the worst attack yet. While a force tried to batter the front gate and another tried ladders on the west wall, a trio of enormous creatures attacked the east wall. What monsters those creatures were! They walked on four legs yet were two or three times as tall as a man. The lower half was scaled and reptilian, but their torsos and heads were man-like and full of twisted evil. Their tremendous axes left gaping holes in the wall. Entire log, winched into place by a half dozen men were uprooted and scattered. Captain Strasse himself sounded the alarm and drove the monsters off. One was trapped in a pit and slain. Its roars were deafening. Elsewhere, we counted 57 dead beasts, and their sickening carcasses were dragged off and burned. We lost another 21 men. We can ill afford such exchanges. The worse news is that our gunpowder supply was depleted by the attack. The fields are all despoiled, and no food can be found there. We cannot hold out much longer. I do not want to fall in this Sigmar-forsaken forest. Perhaps they will listen to a barter?": — from the Journal of Bürgermeister Nusbaum
Year 6. Day 57

"I have been in the woods now for several days. It is deathly silent, but I can feel the eyes of the forest upon me. It is hard to keep track of time, but I believe it has been 10 days since the order of half-rations was enacted. I complained to Captain Strasse, but he had bseen fit to burst into my home and carry everything I had stored there. I told him that if I were more confident in his defence, then perps I might not have hoarded such a cache. His reply was that if he could spare the men he would have had me watched. It is clear from this point that the Captain’s words have turned my own people against me. What was I to do? There are under 100 men left in the garrison - well under half strength, barely enough to man the walls. A hero’s death is for fools. I will not detail how I braved the woods or parleyed with abhorrent creatures lest this journal be foundd and I be judged by lesser men who were not there. Getting the guards at the southern gate to abandon their post was easy and left the southern road open to me. An open road for open gates, that was the bargain. Fast as I and my pack mule might travel, I could not escape the sounds. There will be no survivors but me. I will reach the Ostfort in 2 days. I will make the report of my escape and restart my life. The journal was discovered on Albrecht Nusbaum’s corpse. His remains were found nailed to a post just outside the Ostfort.": — from the Journal of Bürgermeister Nusbaum
Year 6. Day 70

"One of the most important textbooks for Siege warfare was devised by Giovanni Marmalodi, a bankrupt Tilean soldier of fortune, in the year 2420. Called A Treatise for de Deliverance of Cities, it is a remarkable book: all the more so since Marmalodi is known never to have been present at a siege. However, it is believed that he discovered a journal, kept by Ilich Meinbach, who was Duke of the Grand Principality in the Border Princes from 2396 until 5th Vorhexen in the year 2399. Meinbach’s domain - in large was besieged and razed by orcish attackers. The journal he kept is therefore a priceless account of how a siege operates.": —

"High flies the fearsome steed of war. The muscled might of this crossed beast. Defies all laws of nature and, On thunder clap wings, It soars majestic over earthbound foe. Crashing down wild-eyed upon its prey, Its snorting breath is the storm, And lighting dances on its iron hooves. No creature of pastoral meadow this, Rather tempestuous violence made flesh and blood. High indeed flies the fearsome steed of war.": —

"A Thundertusk was once housed in the Imperial Zoo as part of the Emperor's famous menagerie. During the first few months of captivity in summer, the Thundertusk was docile and sickly, not moving at all. When the howling winds of winter came, however, the beast roared to life, freezing its enclosure with thick ice, before shattering the walls with its mighty tusks. Enraged, the Thundertusk rampaged through the city. It was last seen heading northwards.": — of the Imperial account

"Hail to the mighty tomb guards who are before me. They who have have stood guardian to my tomb chamber for eternity! For I Settra, Lord of Kings has awakened to command ye! Hail to the sentinels, turn now your heads to face the foe! Arise, ye Sphinxes who crouch beside the monuments of the king: your prey has been found, Hail to the commanders of the right and the left flanks, lead forth your regiments- Fill the air with the sound of your chariots pursuing the foe! Your standards are pleasing to the gods, see how the sun god shines upon them. See how they gleam after the darkness of the tomb. Hail to the Liche Priests, ye who have loyally served without counting the years. Ye who raised up your incarnations to strengthen my spirit!": — Settra the Tomb King

"To the north, in the small village of Anikmaar, the peasants and simple folk who till the earth and make due with their roughshod tools have a fear of sound. Specifically, they fear speaking. Each man, woman, and child is raised under the law that every word he speaks can be used by Morr to weigh his soul and determine his worthiness in the afterlife. Such trepidation leads to a silence so heavy that people go days and weeks without uttering a single word or grunt. Elders speak not at all, and children of ten find themselves in silent prayer, begging for forgiveness for their idle prattling over games and chores. While it may seem extreme, this is simply the way of life for these people. They live in constant fear of their own voices, and believe that the gods overlook little and forgive even less. Anikmaar is not alone in its concern for silence. Other villages throughout Averland practice diligent vows of silence, but none take their pathos to the extreme of the Anikmaari. Those who have visited these people claim no wish to return, and coincidentally surround themselves with the clamour of busy taverns and docks for their remaining days.": —

"When aspiring apprentices walk into my office, I tell them straight away that working as a journeyman trader is the only wat to learn this business. If you just want to earn a living, well , then become an accountant or a sales agent. But you’ll never get rich playing with your abacus all day if you’re just tallying another man’s profits.": — Randolf Schmiermann, Former Merchant Guildmaster of Schoppendorf

"They stink worse than Sergant Strauss after two months on the road, and they’re almost as ugly too.": — Elke Rabe, Camp Follower, attached to the baggage train of the Imperial Stirland Guards.

"The hinterlands of the Old World were once rife with Trolls, though not so much these days. Their foul kind are not missed. I would suggest looking northwards, towards the area, appropriately enough, known as Troll Country. There you might find a few Trolls. Bring me the gizzards of three Trolls and I shall use them in concocting a potion that will cure your poor daughter of the Plague. Be wary. Remember that while Trolls are exceptionally stupid, they remain some of the most dangerous creatures in all the world.": — Dieter Liebgott, Alchemist

"Tell you what, you buy this ward against the Plague an' I'll throw in this trinket made from a Stone Troll's 'ide that'll make you immune to all magics, fair and foul for 'alf price. I know it looks like a rock. What do you think Stone Trolls are made out of you great pillock, treacle? Who's the 'edge Wizard here, you or me? That's right. So do you want these powerful trinkets or do I 'ave to sell them to someone who actually cares about his kin catchin' the plague?": — Ruben, Street Vendor

"We ain't servin' no more fish stew at the inn. People cain't go down near the river no more. Last feller that went down there 'ad is head bit clean off by a River Troll as he bent down to check his seine. Everyone's been sent down there to kill it, ain't come back. Try the mutton, it's a bit fatty, but it ain't worth losin' yer 'ead over. Hah! Didja 'ear that, Johann? I made a joke!": — Hanna Bauman, serving wench at the Wayward Goose Tavern

"A mix of everything you have, and plenty of it.": — Rikkit'tik, Clan Eshin "Scholar"

"Some authorities hyoithesise that all life is inherently Chaotic, inherently tainted by that dark force. Whether this is true or nay I cannot say. It is clear to me however that all life has the potential to so tainted, and that certain creatures are Chaotic by their very nature, such as Beastmen and Minotaurs. Trolls are not quite so marked by Chaos as are those creatures, though it is often said that their adaptability and variety are strong indicators of their truly Chaotic nature. That may be so, though if it is perhaps we Humans should also have cause of concern, for their can be few creatures, Chaotic or not,quite so adaptable and various as Humankind. Whatever the truth, it is clear that many Trolls do fall under the sway of Chaos, bearing much the same Marks of Chaos as do the Chaos raiders the North. These Chaos Trolls are no larger than their ordinary counterparts but are frequently even uglier and more deformed, and universally more vicious and aggressive in their depredations.": — Klaus Zwolferhorn, from On Chaos and its Dread Works: Or A Guide to the Coming Apocalypse.

"You know how charcoal burning's done, right? You make yourself a big low bonfire in the forest, then he earth atop it so it just smoulders away by itself for days, never quite burning out. Then you pull the earth off the top and you're left with charcoal underneath. Troll leapt out one time when I was in the woods with Wilhelm the charcoal-burner, The Troll grabbed Wilhelm from behind, its hand round his throat like an iron collar. I was scared out of my skin, but I knew a Troll was probably stupider than me so I thought fast. Hoping to save us both I told it I could get it some tastier food. I'd heard that a Troll will eat anything, see, so I told it that the mound of earth we were tending was a creature we were farming, an earth monster that was particularly tasty dish. It dropped Wilhelm onto the forest floor and just knlt down to take a great big glup of earth, not realizing it was swallowing a load of burning wood in the same mouthful. It dropped to the ground clutching its belly, smoke pouring out of its mouth, and I cut its head off with my axe before it could recover. I looked to Wilhelm, but he was gone; the Troll had crushed his throat to a pulp before it dropped him.": — Fritz Bodger, Forester

"They don't call it Troll Country because it's full of foxes, son": — Old Yob, Elk Hunter

"In the dark midnight hours, I sometimes ponder if we should not be grateful to the Trolls. Perhaps they kill as many of the kyazak as we do. Perhaps without them, all the land would fall under the Chaos raiders. Perhaps not. It grows late, and I have had very much kvas.": — Doktor Vilya Yevilnovich, Master Bestarius, University of Kislev

"Avast! What is that strange lumpen thing floating off the starboard bow?": — Last words of a Stir River Patrol Captain before he was eaten by a River Troll

"Do not ask which creature screams in the night. Do not question who waits for you in the shadow. It is my cry that wakes you in the night, and my body that crouches in the shadow. I am Tzeentch and you are the puppet that dances to my tune...": — The Changer of Ways.

"I watch you. I see the hatred in your eyes, well-hidden behind courtly graces. I listen. I know the terrible darkness that hides behind your well-rehearsed lies. I wait for you at the edge of sanity. I taste the pain in your mind, the yearning to end this charade. I make my home in the darkest pits of your soul. In the shadows I bide my time. I patiently wait for you to open your eyes and realize that it is by my will alone that you draw breath. For I am Tzeentch and you are my puppet who dances to my tune.": — The Changer of Ways

"Whatever you might believe. Unicorns are not dumb animals. They simply deem other creatures to be unworthy of their time and attention, and thus do not converse with them.": — Bonnaudo, famed Bretonnian explorer

"Valten isn't dead, you know. My cousin saw him in the market square last week. He was buying cabbages.": — Gossip overheard in pubs and taverns across the Old World

"I do not care what our prey think of us. Do you consider what opinion meat has of you?": — Constantin von Carstein

"When Kurnous, God of the Hunt, met Rahagra, the father of the White Lions, they fought for three days, from dawn to dusk, but neither could claim victory. So began a bond of brotherhood between the hunter and the lion. We are rivals, as brothers are, but our kinship is the stronger for it.": — Scarloc, Wood Elf Hunter

"Of course Frau Schmidt's a witch. Have you seen her wart?": — Gossip overheard in pubs and taverns across the Old World

"Don't accept gifts from wizards, that's what my father always said. No matter how wondrous they seem, you always regret them in the end.": — Rudel, Altdorf Burgher

"Best to burn 'em all. 'kept the fire wizards. Them yer need to drown.": — Old Hob, Averland Peasant

"Orcs and their Goblin kin are our enemies, for they are the defilers of glades and murderers of our folk. Beastmen, the children of Chaos and Long Night are our enemies. They fight us for our right to exist in the woodlands and forests. Skaven of the Underworld are our enemies, for they gnaw the roots of our world and bring pestilence and death to our forests. Dwarfs are our enemies, for they cut down trees to fill their furnaces and to power their infernal machines, and many times they have wage war against us. Kegh-mon, the hairy Humans are our enemies, for they clear trees away for their fields to crow crops which they then consume with unsatisfiable hunger. They would eat the whole world if they could. Elves of Naggaroth and far-of Ulthuan are our enemies, for they have turned their backs on Isha and Kurnous, and betrayed their Elf heritage. These are your enemies, child. Know them well and keep your bow and arrow ready.": — What a Wood Elf mother told her son.

"Even if it you raised it yerself, never turn yer back on a Wyvern. It'll bite off a bit as soon as look at yer, and it'll be a bit you're gonna miss.": — Orc Warboss Grod da One-legged

"The worst thing about a snowstorm is that Yhetees can be upon you before you know it - it's like the storm itself grows claws.": — Gunrek Thorson, Dwarf Ranger

"When da red fire mountain starts ta glow, pack da camp - it’s time ta go!": — What Passes for a Wise Orc Proverb

"Don't travel the dark woods, except at need.If forced to enter, make haste and speed. Stick to the path and travel by day.Beware the Beast and to Sigmar pray.": — Children's Rhyme from the Reikland Region

"War isn't fair son, it just isn’t fair. The trick is to make sure it isn’t fair for the bastards on the other side…": — Emperor Luitpold to his son, Karl Franz

"I order the execution of the prisoners with extreme prejudice. It is the righteous judgement upon these barbarous wretches.": — Baron Rikhardt ordering the execution of Bretonnian prisoners during the Battle of Bogwurst

"In Reikdorf Town did Sigmar stand and great Empire of Man found he. There Reik, the bless’ed river, swell’d. Upon whose banks all great men dwell’d and would for etern’ty.": — Sighardt Schneider-Koller from Sigmar, Emperor!, 1797 IC

"Yes, of course you can bring your new friend to the ball, Gebhardt. I’ll just mingle with the Countess’s ladies, and if he tries to follow me around… well then he’ll only make me look better by comparison!": — Lord Han Emil Hassenfus Sep (Overheard speaking to one of his hangers-on)

Quotes

Advice from the Dawn Mother

Amoebae

Be'lakor

Beastmen and Mutants

Behemoth

Bloodsedges

Bog Octopi

Bonegrinder giants

Carnosaurs

Chameleoleeches

Chaos

Chaos Cultists

Chaos Dragons

Chaos Dwarfs

Chaos Marauders and Chaos Warriors

Chaos Spawn

Chaos Warhounds

Chimera

Cockatrices

Crypt Scavengers

Dark Elves

Dark Emissaries

Darkwald Forest

Dear Jorris,

Dragons

Dwarfs

Elves

Eyeless Ones

Fenbeasts

Finger of Doom

Firebirds

Fleugweiner Sonderblitz

Frostfiend

Ghorgons

Giant Leeches

Giant Spined Chaos Beast

Giant Wolfs

Giants

Goblin Shaman Kazgi

Goblins

Gossip

Great Eagles

Great Maw

Great Tauruses

Griffons

Halflings

High Elves

Hobgoblins

Hope

Insults

Interrogation

Jabberslythes

Khemri

Khorne

Kislev

Lammasus

Lustria

Manticores

Medical Sayings

Morrslieb

Nagash

Nippers

Ogre Kingdoms

Orcs

Ostland

Perilous Beasts A Study of Creatures fair and foul

Plague Toads

Religion in Kislev

Rules of bein’ a sneaky git

Scrolls of Binding

Seduction

Siege

Skaven

Snotlings

Snowstorms

Spiders

Squigs

Star Signs

Stegadons

Perilous Beasts
A Study of Creatures fair and foul